


Footsteps in the Snow

by Blackridge



Category: The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Closure, Dark, Drama, F/F, Gay, Romance, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 178,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27839365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackridge/pseuds/Blackridge
Summary: When Ellie walks away from that farmhouse, she knows she needs something, just not what that something is. Joel is done. Abby is done. And Dina is gone. Now all she has left is ice. So what does that make her?
Relationships: Abby & Ellie (The Last of Us), Abby & Lev (The Last of Us), Dina & Ellie (The Last of Us), Ellie & Lev (The Last of Us), Ellie & Maria (The Last of Us), Ellie & Tommy (The Last of Us), Ellie (The Last of Us) & Original Character(s), Ellie (The Last of Us)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 90





	1. No One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write this having just finished this work. A lot of me went into this story. Like others, I felt compelled to write this after the end of TLOU2. I couldn't accept the lack of closure. Not for Ellie.
> 
> I love Ellie. She means so much to me. I think she's incredible. She deserves an ending.
> 
> That's what this story is about, ultimately. Closure for Ellie. If you want that, too, I encourage you to read on. I will warn you, in writing this I came to believe that authenticity would make it as real, as valid as possible. So I went for a tone not too far from the games. Which means this story is brutal at times, not just physically. The closure is there, but mostly at the end. There are some rough patches along the way.
> 
> This was a journey for me either way, but if you wanted to join me for it, I would be honored.
> 
> The first chapter is written in Ellie's journal format, starting right after the end of TLOU2. The proceeding chapters will be traditional prose narrative.
> 
> Enjoy.

Half the time I pull this thing out at night, I think about throwing it in the fire. The other half of the time I start writing. Probably better keep it. Not a lot of people to talk to these days.

I left the house three hours ago. I don’t want to say anything else about that right now.

I spent an hour standing on a cliff about a mile from the house. There’s an even better view of the valley there. I looked over the edge a couple times. Other than that I thought about life.

The fire’s gone. The one inside me, that exploded into existence after I watched Abby kill Joel. It wasn’t really a fire anymore. It went from being a fire, to a blowtorch, to dripping magma, to superheated acid. It hurt, it really did, but I know now why I clinged to it. Now that it’s gone, it’s just ice instead.

Fuck. It’s so fucking selfish but I wish Dina hadn’t left. God I want to see JJ so bad. Little spud.

[Sketches of Dina and JJ.]

It really really really hurts.

[Several scribbled out sketches.]

How did she do it? That is not a safe journey. We talked about it, if we ever had to do it, now that we had JJ we’d join a caravan. They pass through the next valley at least once a month. We used to watch them from the porch.

She must have. She’s probably been in Jackson for months. I know I need to go back too…

God, I don’t know how to put it, but it’s too much. My chest hurts so bad. The fire’s blazing but it’s not helping. It’s fucking cold, and I’m alone again. Fuck. But I can’t go back, not yet. I need…

[Scribbled out sketches of Dina, Joel, an owl, the Boston skyline.]

* * *

Just left Jackson. Feels a little dirty. I snuck in with a trade group on the east gate. Avoided Fother Square. Still saw people I knew. Lot of new faces too. I wore this ratty hoody I found on the way. Best I had. I probably looked so fucking suspicious. If I still lived in Jackson and I saw that, I’d tail ‘em.

Anyway, I got out clean. It’s what I’m best at…

I couldn’t face Dina. I’m not scared, exactly. I just know the words haven’t come to me yet. I’m not ready to say what really needs to be said.

I want to say it’s better, but it’s really not. My chest is cold all the time. My appetite is not much better. Still forcing food down. Time hasn’t helped much. But Jackson helped a bit.

I wanted to see her so bad, but that was too risky. I left my old pick on her windowsill. There’s no chance she won’t understand. I didn’t see JJ but I saw decorations in his room upstairs. He’s fine. There’s someone else living there too… A man I think…

[Postulative drawings of the man.]

Saw Tommy. He’s… drinking too much, from the looks of it. God… there’s a lot I want to say to him. About Abby, and after… He’s going to be pissed. Whatever, another time.

Maria’s good, and I know that because Jackson’s good. People are starting to migrate here, I think. There’s new construction on the south side.

I didn’t stay long.

* * *

I have nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no one to be.

I went south.

One day I met a trader who hooked me up with FUCKING MARMALADE. IT WAS LEGIT. Take all my painkillers.

The next day an asshole lumberjack fucker pretended to offer me help then tried to sucker punch me. No regrets.

The marmalade is intact.

* * *

Texas. I like the stars down here.

* * *

It’s been a week since my last entry. Had a near spotting by an extremely scary military caravan. Literally three gas guzzling Humvees busting through the desert. I thought it was fucking FEDRA. I tailed them because I am not smart.

I’m a ways outside Houston. There is some kind of massive network down here. Whoever is at the head of this has to be the king of assholes. It’s not funny, I’ve already seen—

[Drawings of Humvees, cold, chiseled looking security officers, a withered looking old man holding a hoe.]

It’s like a caste system. There’s this extreme military presence, apparently unchallenged, pretty much like Boston, but worse. There are some kind of civilians. I can hear them in their walled city. I think there’s more, vehicles come in and out all the time. I think these people are literally **making** gas.

Then there’s the workers, or prisoners, or slaves or whatever you want to call them. The people skin burnt from the sun, wearing rags, obviously unwashed, underfed. I kept walking by these mounds at the edges of work sites. I realized they were worker graves. There is almost always a fresh one.

I’m sitting on some rocks right now, looking down at a gang of workers working a field. They bring them in in a truckload in the morning, then truck them out. It looks like beats or potatoes or something. There are only three guards, but they are so well armed, it wouldn’t even matter if the slaves tried to rush them. All have high powered automatic weapons, armor and helmets, practically a uniform. I’ve glimpsed inside the Humvees. These guys are packing military class grenades, rocket launchers, mines. It’s fucked.

I’ve thought about it for a long time. Could I do it. There’s only three. But time and again the answer is no, I could not. I can’t instantly and silently kill them due to their armor. I can’t overpower them. Even with the slaves’ help, I probably wouldn’t survive. And if we did, what? Get run down by assholes in Humvees shooting automatic rifles? What, would I be these people’s leader or something? Sad and sorry thought. Where the fuck would we go? To our graves, that’s where.

This is some of the most vicious oppression I’ve ever seen.

I’m starting to feel the fire again.

God, there’s tear streaks on the page. I feel so mad and weak.

Why is the world like this?

* * *

I haven’t moved from the last entry. I’ve laid in this narrow shadow in the rocks all afternoon. Watching these people slowly die as they farm beets. Almost out of water.

It’s the infection. Cordyceps. That is why the world is the way it is.

I don’t like calling it by name, it disgusts me. It’s the most selfish organism on the planet, and considering this world used to be dominated by human beings, that’s saying something.

I don’t hate it. It just needs to not exist.

It hurts, kind of like mourning. To think about a cure. That’s why I don’t. It’s offensive to talk about. First they laugh, then they get mad. _Stick to the real world, kid_.

That was my job, though. The most important thing I would ever do.

[Doodle of Firefly symbol.]

I feel so bad for Dr. Andersen. Joel did the same thing to him, but he took his life away too.

His daughter… anyway.

I miss Marlene…

[Sketches of Marlene.]

The woman on the recorder said the only person who could make a cure was dead. But how did she know that? She couldn’t have. That was five years ago and she didn’t know then. The Fireflies… they’ve reformed before.

I just… It’s kind of a lot. I don’t know… If I can believe again.

But this world cannot stay this way.

* * *

Wow, I haven’t thought about this in days.

Okay, so I ran into some traders who were all ‘you’re cool, you need to go to New Orleans!’ And I was like ‘no, I don’t!’ They were cool guys, we joked around like we weren’t ready to reach for our guns if we needed to. But, nevermind. I did go.

[Sketches of ruined New Orleans skyline. Square milling with people. Food vendor. Trumpet player.]

New Orleans. Dude. It’s so different. It’s way down in this part of the country that’s so close to sea level and the Mississippi that annual storms threaten to flood it, year after year. Sometimes they’re so bad it destroys part of the city. But they refuse to leave.

I get it, it’s kind of magic. It’s beautiful there. Such good food on like every other corner. Some of it spicy, god damn. But good.

And the **music**. It plays all the time. These brass horns, all kinds of them I’ve never seen. It wants you to dance right where you stand. People play it from their porches and windows. There was a porch with a piano and a man so good at playing it he might as well be a wizard. People loved him. I loved him. After sunset it’s like a city wide party every night it’s **crazy**. I think the storms have taught the people here to weather anything, even the infection.

The city is open to visitors—imagine that, first of all—and they self-police. It’s kind of expensive, to get in, but once you do you just walk around and have fun.

Honestly, it was a lot, especially after the road. Too many people. I would have left after the first night, but… I met Bresha.

[Sketches of lithe black woman with big, curly hair and a confident, knowing smile.]

She succeeded in getting me drunk and—hey, I knew I could trust her. Her friends, well. Okay, I let my guard down. But it was so worth it. God I felt **alive**. God, her back… She has these captivating eyes. And more than a few scars. We didn’t talk about them, though…

I didn’t feel guilty. I did think about Dina… But—[several scribbled out things] I will never have that chance again and we both know it.

After that first night, I was like ‘well, that was an experience.’ Then she hooked me for another day, and another night, and another day, and another night… I had to go. She literally grabbed my hands with both of hers, trying to stop me.

It was actually a little scary. She told me she knew I came by myself. That’s no way to live. Her brother did that. Don’t do that, stay with us. We’ll take care of you. Don’t walk off into the night. I love you, I love you. God, I almost wanted to bolt. But, I grit my teeth and I pulled her close and looked her in the eye and told her… Jesus, almost everything. She said ‘you will go back to Jackson?’ And when I said yes she finally let me go.

You know what New Orleans taught me? We’re not done. Humanity’s not finished yet. We’re not done living yet.

[Sketch of same woman looking over her shoulder with longing in her eyes.]

* * *

Dude, the south is so hot. Joel told me, but we never went far south so I didn’t really believe him. It’s like you’re walking through a bunch of evaporated sweat, it **sucks**.

BUT, it’s beautiful. Mid Georgia. The sun is like white fire, the trees are like green fire. There’s SO much green. Lots of weird animal sounds. I like it.

[Fieldscape, lots of grass and a wall of trees waving in the breeze. Very light.]

Around here, it’s not too bad… Like, there’s lots of little settlements. I could pass five in one day. Communities dominated by one or two big families. I traded with an old guy out and about like me. I was more jumpy than he was, which was kind of fucked up/nice to experience. They told me you can’t trust just anyone though. But if you weren’t related to anyone around here, that’s probably safest. Lots of family grudges, I guess. He said my accent would actually help protect me. What accent?

* * *

OKAY West Viriginia. It was pretty cool, not nearly as hot as Georgia, then I literally got trip noosed **again**. I hit a tree and it knocked me out. I woke up to some trappers freeing me. Probably about .5 seconds after the blood rushed back out of my head they knocked me out with a billy club.

I woke up in a shitty little jail. The spun me some bullshit about joining their ranks. I told them to eat shit. Then they said they’d free me if I paid a price. I made some offers but they said no, your pack is ours. God, I was ready to strangle him. I don’t care what he was talking about. They were idiots.

[Ungenerous sketches of older, scarred men jeering and talking.]

They started drinking in the afternoon and I was just waiting for them all to pass out. I was listening to them blabber and one of them is like… Talking about his grandpa, and how before the outbreak he would talk about the good old days, where a man could just hunt and fish and live on selling what he got. And he was like… ‘it’s kinda fucked up, but that’s kind of the life I’m living, right?’ No, shithead, you hunt and fish and trap girls to exploit them.

I didn’t slit their throats after I picked the pitiful lock. I just took my pack and left.

Only people are capable of this shit… but it wouldn’t be like this. Not without the infection.

I’ve been thinking about the cure again. [Doodle of Firefly symbol.]

* * *

Outside New York. I went through Jersey and Ridgewood till I was near the river. It’s… pretty bad here. But manageable. Across the river… I can hear them again, faintly, over the current of the Hudson. Thousands of infected. The city is not under control.

Why did I come here? This was a big risk. I mean… I think it’s the legend of the city, right?

[Sketches of New York skyline.]

Joel said a lot of people considered it the heart of the country. For centuries, maybe. It’s very impressive.

* * *

I am not smart. I kept messing around until I found a bridge the wasn’t barricaded to shit. I watched for a while, then when I was sure I could approach safely I asked. Barrow clan. They control the bridge. We won’t kill you or rape you, but you gotta pay. Kinda like New Orleans, but less amicable.

Bridge to what? I asked. Guess you’ll just have to see. I’m not the only curious one, I guess.

Well, experience counts for a lot and I scored a massive amount of painkillers and drugs from a condemned hospital wing in north Jersey. I hid most of it and bought me a round trip.

* * *

It’s like New Orleans, but different.

New York is alive. You’d think, Long Island, that’s what it’s called, with all the towers, would be fucked due to population density. It is, _but people refuse to leave_. I think they love New York, that’s the only thing that makes sense. What they put up with here, what they go through, it would be so much easier in the country, but they don’t want to leave.

So, I’ve been here for two days, here’s how it works.

It’s like the South, kind of. There’s no central authority. There are like dozens of little ‘tribes’ or ‘gangs’ or whatever you want to call them. They all have their little town or turf, all connected mostly by sky bridges, sewers, clever passages around the teeming infected below and about. There is violence, gang wars and stuff, but there are areas that are protected. Wards. Markets. People who violate these spaces get merc’d and tossed to the mob below.

Armed groups don’t get allowed through. There are weapon limits. Fortunately I didn’t hit any because I left my best ones back in Jersey.

People are cordial. To strangers.

I’m not in any in-group. One night I was eating at a sushi restaurant—they still exist— **it was worth it** —and this boss bitch and her gang eyeball me.

I wasn’t receptive but she was persistent. ‘Let us show you around,’ all that. Well, she did, and it was worth it. She took me to all these markets—she has a lot of contacts. I knew I wasn’t safe. There was one warehouse she tried to bring me into but I refused. She was annoyed, but relented. Maybe if your muscle would stop eyeballing me. I didn’t get drunk, though she tried.

At the end of the night she took me up a skyscraper, as they call them. I mean, the thing was fucked but the view was unbelievable. I felt like I really got to see New York. There were so many little fires I couldn’t count them all. She says before the outbreak every single window I could see would be lit up. I don’t know, sounds blinding. But she insists it’s true. Didn’t matter. The stars, the icy dark blue ocean, the buildings looming like titanic guardians, and the shouting masses of people below, it was an awesome thing to see. Made me feel above it all for a little while.

I snuck out that night and didn’t look back.

I was frustrated though when I was in a market surrounded by people speaking other languages and bought and ate something I didn’t recognize. It was delicious. I’ve had the shits for almost a day.

* * *

Yeah, call me paranoid. That boss bitch Maisy and her goons came through Tribeca looking for me. She was mad.

This woman Gurna had put me up but I left and hid basically in the garbage. I don’t care, they didn’t find me. They went south, I went north. I made it to the bridge same day. They call it the Cuomo. I had to ask how to spell it. They honored my round trip ticket.

Maybe I’ll come back here. It was pretty great. But I’d bring friends.

* * *

I passed Chicago today. Honestly, I’ve always been curious about it. This old guy in Boston would tell stories about it. Better times for him, I think. He’d romance it, talking about mafiosos and downtown glamor and stuff.

Well, it’s gone the way of Vegas, now. All walled off. As I hiked around the walls—from a distance—someone wrote ‘no man’s land’ like every half mile. I can hear the infected.

[Bleak sketch of a long stone wall with a darkened skyline towering above it.]

Sucks. They want to take everything away from us. Not they, it. The infection. [Firefly doodle.]

* * *

Dude, something crazy happened. As I was walking away from ruined Chicago the ground started shaking. I thought maybe earthquake, then I recognized the sound. A huge herd of horses came thundering up over the horizon. They were being driven by a coordinated team on horseback.

The guys were armed, of course, but I… Shit, I should have hidden but I just didn’t. The horses were so beautiful.

A couple broke off and approached me. I put my hands up. These guys seemed like traders. Pissed me off when they pointed their guns at me, but they found their manners when I said I wanted to look at their horses and I had trade.

Guy’s all, ‘hop on back.’ Meaning his horse. I’m all, ‘get there faster if I’m in front.’ His friends found that pretty funny. So did I.

Gotta say, it was a pretty clean operation. By the time we got to where they stopped the herd a couple hours later, camp was getting set up. There were women and kids there so I knew I was okay.

I didn’t ask permission or anything, just got off and started looking around. Men were seeing to the horses, for the most part. Looking ‘em over, making sure there’s no injuries from the days ride. Brushing ‘em here, checking this one’s teeth. The women were more occupied setting up tents and a big cookfire. I snuck glances at the night’s fare. Looked like… bison? A lot of red meat, with potatoes, carrots, onions. Good old fashioned stew. I even saw a woman pull out some salt and bundles of spices. Crossed my fingers I’d get some.

They’re free grazers, basically. Just ride around, eat, breed, and keep riding. I asked one guy, Lem, how they avoid infected. He says they’re smart. Hah. He says if they run into any they just keep going until they know they’re clear. Sometimes they have to ride late. Sometimes they just have to cut a couple runners down and they’re fine.

Lem says it’s easy taking care of the horses, and the horses take care of them. It’s the people that’s tricky. He says the women are for this life as much as the men, until the minute they get pregnant. Then all they want to do is find the nearest safe town and settle down. Which, I really wanted to argue with, but then I thought of Dina. He says it ruins them for the road. He had a point, still annoyed me.

I am **never** getting pregnant.

[Sketch of older man in a wide-brimmed hat talking.]

I asked Lem if I could take a look at the horses and he says ‘oh yeah, go on now.’

I go over and, these are some beautiful creatures. Well exercised, well fed. A lot of Bay, some Palomino, several Skewbald and Buckskin, a Sabino, a couple Appaloosa’s I absolutely loved. People friendly for the most part, too. I was just walking through this herd of horses, talking to ‘em and petting ‘em while they ate. I probably had a big dumb smile on my face. Shit, I’m smiling now.

Anyway, like I said mostly it’s dudes tending to the horses, but I notice one girl, pretty young, born post infection for sure. She’s brushing a bay, wearing a pale farm dress of all things, green and blue plaid on it, an apron over the front. She clearly rode all day in it, it’s pretty dirty. I didn’t say anything, but she looks over her shoulder and we make eye contact…

[Sketch of a thin girl with black hair in a ponytail, brushing a horse.]

I walk over and we talk a bit. She’s been with these guys since she was five. Her mom didn’t know the first thing about horses when they ran into these guys, but they needed protection. They’re her life now. Plus her mom and Cruz are basically married. Pretty good life, for the most part, she says, giving me this long look.

I mean… I was enjoying the conversation, for sure, but I was getting uncomfortable with the way her eyes kept lingering. I was starting to get funny looks from the men around. I asked her to show me some horses. She gives me this knowing smile—what is it with some girls? Always smirking around me like they know something I don’t.

Anyway, she shows me a bunch. She has names for all of them but she says so does everyone. I like it. The Sabino is Velvet, handsome but too proud for me. Larry is a Bay who is honestly too excited. Dinah—her name’s Dinah by the way, I dare you to say something, not that anyone’s there, no one will ever read this, but I still dare you—Dinah tickles Larry under his jowls and he immediately starts hopping. I’m like did you not run all day dude? Diablo is a beautiful black horse who is also proud… and I’m not sure so people friendly. Not my type. Jarvis—I’m all ‘that’s not a name,’ she’s all ‘yes it is! That’s my grandpa’s name!’—anyway, he’s one of the Appaloosa’s. He’s kinda shy, it’s cute. I’m honestly charmed, stroking his side, but Dinah grabs my hand and shakes her head, which makes me feel a couple strong things, and leads me to Eddie.

‘Eddie is a blessed soul,’ she tells me. ‘He’s the one you want.’

Eddie is a Bay. At first I thought he was a bit dense, glancing at me as he chewed slowly with this blank expression. But then I realized he was sizing me up. She asked me if I wanted to brush him and I said of course.

‘He loves getting brushed.’

He did. He stopped eating and kind of just stood there with lazy, half-closed eyes. I gave him a good workover. Afterward I stroked his neck just a little, trying to tell if he trusted me at all. He leans over and nibbles the shoulder of my over-shirt. I’m like ‘hey!’ I think it amused him. He just walked off.

I couldn’t figure him, I had to ask Dinah.

‘You think he likes me?’

She had this infuriating smile on her face. ‘Definitely.’

They sure did set me up with some of that stew, it was **prime**. I sat in their circle around the fire. There was close to thirty of us. I didn’t get to sit close to Dinah. She kept glancing at me, though. Jesus, have some subtlety… This guy Tom had a few good stories to share, although half of them he got heckled for as bullshit, something staunchly denied. Old Benji played a couple songs on his banjo. Those good old bawdy songs that are like, family friendly bawdy? Where the kids don’t get ‘em and the adults just think it’s silly? He was fun, I liked him.

[Sketch of skinny old, bearded man nimbly playing a banjo and singing.]

They offered me space under a tent but I thanked them kindly and said I was more comfortable under the stars. Not totally untrue. I set up a fair distance from camp behind a big rock, rolled out my bag, laid my head on my pack and waited.

Thankfully, Dinah waited a full hour after lights out before she came tiptoeing around my rock. She brought a half bottle of decent whiskey. We were up half the night just talking about things we’d seen and places we wanted to go. Her eyes got so big just hearing about New York and New Orleans. God, she was adorable. Pretty young, started to feel like. Still fairly innocent, as far as this world goes.

I’m pretty sure I was her first. I kept telling her we didn’t have to do anything, she could just lay next to me. She’s the determined type, though.

[Sketch of pretty, young black-haired girl with her head on a pillow, mischief and desire in her eyes.]

My psycho-cautious brain woke me up an hour before dawn. I made Dinah go back to her tent. She did **not** want to go, but I made her. And I told her to stop looking at me so much, she was going to get me in trouble. She fussed about that too, but I was firm. I bet she pouted all the way back.

I remember what it’s like. Being young, clutching these ideals so firmly. _This is how the world should be_. And it’s true. A couple girls shouldn’t have to hide in the shadows just for sharing a few kisses, not anywhere. But that’s not the world we live in, right or wrong. And I’m still attached to being alive.

Damn it. I think I’m getting older or something.

I didn’t want to be rude, so I stayed for breakfast, helped ‘em make it and everything. Basically just fruit and gruel. Not great, but filling. Did not fail to notice some of the funny looks from yesterday were turning mean. I closed the deal on Eddie and gear to ride him. Parted with a **lot** of the pills I found in Jersey. Not like I had any use for them.

I said goodbye to Dinah quietly. She wanted a kiss but I refused. She got all… god, hands-on-hips pouty with me. Like _how could you say no to this_. It wasn’t easy.

[Sketch of Dinah, hands-on-hips pouty.]

Almost got away clean, I was trotting right out of their camp when she rides up on me bareback on Jarvis. She cut me and Eddie off, then rode right up next to me, so close our thighs were touching.

‘I’ll come with you. Right now. Not a thing back there I need.’

I think she meant it. And if I had said yes, would she have changed her mind in a week? Two? Probably. She wanted something that she hadn’t found in that camp. But that didn’t change anything.

‘Never,’ I said, and it sounded hard even to me. ‘And I’ll tell you why.’ I pointed back at the camp where more than a few pairs of eyes were watching us. ‘That back there. That’s your family. Now, out there,’ I swung my arm around to the horizon, distant dark clouds over mountains to the southwest, the rippling overlap of the long, flat hills of grassland, topped with dry grass blowing so fine it looked like ripples through liquid gold. ‘There’s a lot of beauty out there, despite all the jacked up shit. And there’s that in spades. But nothing you ever found out there in all your searching could replace what you have right here. You need to remember that.’

I’m almost embarrassed to write it. Sounds like Jerry or one of the other elders in Jackson. Sounds a bit like Joel. But that’s what I said.

She looked at me for a long time. Like she wanted to argue but couldn’t. ‘I’ll be havin’ that kiss instead, then.’

Like when she grabbed my hand when we were looking at the horses, that had me feeling a couple different ways, strongly. Honestly… I think I might have been more scared in that moment than in all the months since Jackson. I could feel eyes on my back. But I knew I wasn’t going to get away without it. So I leaned in and gave her a good one.

I didn’t even look back, I nudged Eddie into a canter and we rode right into those rolling hills.

* * *

Iowa has been so cold. Fuck this sucks. I wish I had taken Dinah. I miss her so much right now.

[Sketch of Dinah bareback on Jarvis, looking sad.]

* * *

I did the right thing.

* * *

Dinah was right, Eddie is a blessed soul.

He’s a smart horse. Took me a bit to catch on. Sometimes he’d suddenly get skiddish, wouldn’t want to listen to my commands. It was concerning at first, but every time it turned out there was a reason for it, good or bad. Once it was a clicker just on the other side of a wall. Another time I heard the voices of some men in the distance shortly after. They were not friendly. The third time it was squirrels though. I made him stand next to the tree cause I couldn’t believe it. I kept looking at the squirrel, tail all twitchin’, and looking at him. He was clearly uncomfortable. Finally the squirrel darts down the trunk for god knows what reason and Eddie practically bucks me. I laughed so hard I felt bad. He was pissed at me for like an hour.

So infected, bandits, and squirrels. He’s good for all three. Now I’ve got seven senses.

He also has a habit of nibbling my arm when I’m distracted or we’ve been in one place too long. Who trained this horse?

What’s more… I don’t write about it much cause I don’t see how it will help. Sometimes I… you know, think of Joel, or Dina, or JJ. It sucks. But what am I gonna do. I deal with it like I always have. I can go back to Jackson when I decide it’s too much.

But now, with Eddie… Last night I had just started the fire and was about to pull out some nuts to roast when it just hit me. I was standing there, shaking and stuff. And I feel his big, wet nose poke me in the back. I’m like _now_? _Seriously_? He pokes me again. So I sigh, turn around and… just him, and his big eyes…

I put my hands on his neck and my head against his and we just stand there like that for a while. God, I’m tearing up again. Anyway. I felt better. And he just kinda turned around and went back to dinner. [A few tear smudges.]

That’s a good horse.

* * *

I just crossed the border into Wyoming. I wasn’t heading home, but maybe I was. The Midwest is just a wasteland, seems like. Maybe everyone went to warmer climates. Except Jacksonians. It’s stark out here. Nebraska was 300 miles of cold plains, low, snow drizzled foothills, and dead silent cities. I haven’t seen a living soul in two weeks. Just empty, cold, dead land.

It’s starting to feel really pointless. Yep, big sigh time.

Time to head home.


	2. Jackson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this one pretty quickly. I plan to pace my uploads from this point, to 3-5 days per chapter. Actually, if any writers out there have dealt with backlog posting, I will gladly receive your advice on the matter.
> 
> There are some fun scenes in this one. Enjoy.
> 
> P.S. It's 'MAID-lynn'

The sun is at its highest point, looming South in the Jackson Winter sky, when Ellie arrives at the East gate again. She’s contemplating sneaking through the crowd again, but then she sees Bald Henry waving people in in front of her. They make eye contact and the jig is up. Or is it?

He’s taking the name of every entrant for security purposes, but he keeps eyeing Ellie with a you’re in for it look. Finally, it’s her turn.

“Pearl Hughes.”

He stops and gives her a long look, which Ellie returns innocently until she can’t help but smirk and smacks his shoulder, leaving him with a wink.

“I’m sending word to Maria the second I’m done here,” he calls after her. “Ain’t gonna be my head in the hole.” Psh, he’s talking about the stocks down by the old butcher shop. It’s been a long-levelled threat against miscreants to get slammed in there, but Ellie had never once seen it. Now it’s just something people talk about to suggest you’re gonna get in trouble.

It’s been about ten months since she was last in Jackson. They can wait one more day. She wants the lay of the land. Henry is going to tell Maria, and Maria is going to have her picked up immediately, so Ellie needs to slink today.

She drops off Eddie at the gate stable. “Make some friends.” She pats him on the rump. He harrumphs. She thinks he’s a bit nervous to be left, but he’ll be okay. As soon as she’s out of sight of the gate she strategically dons another ratty hoody she found in a department store. It still stinks but she didn’t really have the luxury of washing it.

Now most people she sees she recognizes. She was never a socialite, so she wasn’t friends with most of them. But any of them might make her. It helps that she looks a bit different. Intentionally dirty, from the road, and her hair is a lot different from the last time she was here. She weaves through the street crowd and makes her way to North Gate. It’s probably almost one.

She lurks in the shadow of a high porch for no longer than ten minutes before morning patrols start coming in. She recognizes almost everyone. Elliot, Tanner, Benji, Kyle, Rosa, Meredith, James, Kassy, Joseph and Clint. Problem is, half of them were still in school when she left Jackson for Seattle. Clint was kind of a pipsqueak, actually. She can see the breadth in his shoulders, now.

Ellie decides she doesn’t like being made to feel old.

Apparently Elliot’s the patrol leader up North, which is fine. She’d have picked him too, likely. They all came within twenty minutes of each other, too, which is good. Seems like they opted away from having patrols double as scavengers. Ellie never liked that idea. Scavenging should be a coordinated mission. You should have redundancies, not just two people, and you never know what’s gonna happen in new territory so you can’t plan how long it’s gonna take.

Not that it ever scared her, but. She promised herself early on as a patrol she’d do whatever she could to never see another one go toes up. A couple are experienced, like her. But most are just kids.

No injuries, either. Except a bruise on James’s face that they’re already teasing him about. Something about a buck? A buck would do way more damage than that…

She snorts, chuckling in the shadow of the building. No, it just spooked him.

Things are fine here. There’s more to see.

Not only does she encounter no less than ten active construction projects, she overhears two of the old wall guards talking about ‘the expansion.’ Nuts, they’re finally gonna push the walls out. That’s gonna be a shit load of work. It’s a good thing she won’t be here when it starts.

By her estimate, probably one or two out of every five people she sees is a new face, especially on the south side of town, which used to be nearly derelict. Perfect place to get together and goof off when not on duty. If you were scared to leave the walls, anyway.

That many new faces? People have been migrating here. And why wouldn’t they? She traveled around the fucking country and could count places as nice as Jackson on one hand. Her left hand.

She fingers the nubs of her left hand. To say nothing of guitar… Dina’s gonna be mad. Fuck it, how could she possibly not make Dina mad at this point. She bit her lip.

Alright, she was a bit scared. She was going to see Dina. Just not yet.

Among the new construction, the old feed store is going to be the new social space slash dance hall. The barn they were using is going back to being a stable, on account of more people means more horses. That old pet store is now going to be a full-fledged gun store, owned by Reginald, as you might guess. Guess he wasn’t making enough trade from his garage. They’re fixing the piping in the public restrooms down at the park, to make a public park more public. And the other seven projects were all new houses being built, renovated, or repaired, apparently by the people who hoped to live in them.

If that doesn’t say Maria knows how to run a fucking town, nothing would. She hadn’t caught Ellie yet, though. She smirks. She’d had her eyes peeled. She’s not ready to get picked up.

Ellie spends an hour or so just sitting down at the park under the shadow of an old elm. There are a bunch of kids playing some game she doesn’t recognize. Something about a ball and a bunch of hoops on the ground. Some of ‘em are real small, but one of the older boys is doing a good job of refereeing. She’s starting to figure out the rules of the game when she hears footfalls approaching. Her stomach drops.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

Dinesh plunks down next to her and leans back against the tree. “Who says Maria didn’t send me?” Dinesh had not changed much. Warm skin, warm eyes. She’d always liked him. He still wears that damn goofy ear flap hat, though.

“She’d send someone more competent.”

He chuckled. “You’re right, she’ll probably send Edna.”

“She still the strongest woman in town?”

“No, she’s the strongest person in town.”

“Remember when Seth tried to kick her out of his bar?”

“Oh my god,” his head drops into his hands. “She was so embarrassed the next day. She came back and apologized, hat in hand and everything.”

“No one wanted to go near her after she broke that chair.”

“You got a kick out of it, though.”

“What do you mean?” Ellie says.

“I was across the bar from you when the chair broke on the counter while Seth was runnin’. Everything about your face said this is awesome.”

“It was!” They laugh. It actually brings tears to the corners of her eyes. “It was. Man… I’ve missed Jackson.”

“Took you long enough to admit it.”

She’s avoiding looking at him, then she bites the bullet. “Are you angry at me?”

“No,” he’s smiling, but there’s something else there. “Worried about you, maybe.” He takes a breath and looks up and the late afternoon sky. “Honestly, I didn’t expect I’d ever see you again. How did you survive for this long on your own?”

Ellie rolls her head around, looking at pockets of unmelted snow in the grass. “Stubbornness.”

“That sounds about right.”

She looks at him again. “Am I infamous? Around here?”

“Ah,” he considers. “Only to those who know you.”

She nods. “So yes. Fuck me.”

“Don’t worry. There’s only a few people really waiting up on you. Or are you gonna skip town again?”

“No.” Serious this time. “Well…”

“You’re not staying.”

She can tell he’s disappointed. She sighs. “Look, there’s something I have to do. And I promise it actually matters.”

“Revenge didn’t matter?”

She returns his look but she keeps it level. “Between you and me? No, not a whole hell of a lot.”

“But you will see Dina?”

“Of course—Dinesh, you don’t—“ She shakes her head. “I fucked up, alright? I get it. I needed… time. I’m gonna see them all, trust me. Jeez, did Maria send you? You could be the information agent.”

“She didn’t,” he said, smiling, but she sensed a bittersweetness. “In fact, now I’m going to kick rocks before someone sees me and I land in the frying pan because I didn’t report you.” He hauls himself to his feet and points at her as he walks away. “Good to see you, kid.”

She points on back.

“Oh,” he says over his shoulder, “and there’s a new place in town for eats, Guillermo’s. You gotta hit it up.” He gives her a meaningful look, “es primo.”

She scrunches up her brow a bit. But come to think of it, she was getting hungry.

* * *

Guillermo’s is installed in a fairly dingy old unused saloon. It does, however, have a colorful hand-painted sign with string lights around it. She pulls the heavy door open and a rush of warm air greets her. There’s a Mexican flag on the wall and multicolored string lights strung all through the place. There’s a little stereo playing what she assumes is Mexican music. Besides the bar there’s only three tables and four booths, and it’s fairly full. She takes the last open spot at a booth closer to the kitchen. There’s a dirty, hand drawn menu on the table.

Guillermo’s: A Taste of México.

She hadn’t had Mexican since Boston and it… wasn’t good there. Ellie’s kind of craving the steak and eggs they sometimes had at Arnold’s, especially her first night back in Jackson. She’s thinking about getting back up when someone walks up from behind her. She has a pad in her hand and she leans over to see under Ellie’s hood a little better.

“Hey there, hun. Never seen you around. Hungry?”

Ellie’s honestly stunned. Standing in front of her is one of most gorgeous girls she has ever seen. She has long red hair, elegantly tied up above her neck, soft features and bright blue eyes. She’s wearing a worn but lovely red dress with a little apron in front of it.

“Uh,” she stumbles. She yanks her hood back. She probably looked like a criminal. “Yeah, actually.”

She smiles. “That’s better. Ever had Mexican? Guillermo’s almost as good as he says he is.”

“Oh?” A voice came from the back. The image of a portly, mustachioed Latin man enters the kitchen window. “What’s that girl? You’re being honest with my customers, now, yeah?” He eyes Ellie. “Ooohh, new girl. Oof, and hungry. Let’s fix that.”

Ellie’s totally off guard at this point, and a little worried about the attention. Her eyes keep finding the redhead’s face. “Uh, I’m not really sure what to order…”

“Best stick with a burrito then.”

“You like spicy?” the man asks. He seems serious.

“Uh, how spicy?” She had had a dish in New Orleans she almost couldn’t finish.

He waved her words away like that answered her question. “You’ll love it. Real chicken today.”

“What is it when it’s not real chicken?”

“Goat,” says the redhead to Ellie as she walked back behind the bar. Were her hips… swaying?

“Oh!” says Guillermo as if in pain, “there she goes! Lying to my customers again.”

Out of Guillermo’s sight, the redhead scrunches up her nose and sticks her tongue out. Ellie suppresses the urge to swallow.

When she bites into the burrito, it’s rich, it’s hot, and it’s damn fucking good. Boston was an embarrassment compared to this. She realizes she’s wolfing it and forces herself to slow down. Damn, it’s spicy.

She hasn’t seen the girl recently. Then it hits her why he recommended this place. Damn it, Dinesh! You couldn’t have warned me? She thinks about smelling herself, but she knows she smells like trash. She rips off the gross hoody, almost literally, dumping it next to her.

“Mm, that’s better.”

The girl fills Ellie’s vision again and she’s stunned, again. This girl has a smile like a heart attack.

“How’s that treating you?”

“Damn good,” Ellie replies, wiping her mouth. “Spicy though.” She glances suspiciously at the kitchen. “Do you think he made it extra spicy for me?”

She looks like she doesn’t know how to respond, then Ellie offers her a bite. She gives up a darling little scoff. She takes it from Ellie, looking at her as she takes a bite. As she starts chewing, she starts laughing, nodding.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“Hey, hey!” Guillermo appears again. “Food is for the customers! Eh? What gives?”

“She offered.” She hands it back to Ellie. “Better finish that, you’re wasting away.”

“I manage.” Ellie doesn’t spend much time worrying about food, but truth is, her muscles could probably use the meat. A meal like this would be like a gift from God on the road.

“That’s a few scars on you, girl, and I can’t even see that much.”

Ellie hopes she’s not blushing as much as she feels like she is. In the end she doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“You new in town?” the redhead asks.

Ellie has a lopsided smile for that. “Old, actually. But, could you do me a favor? I’m trying to lay low tonight.”

“Oh, is that a fact?” It strikes Ellie that she has a southern accent. She hadn’t heard many of those until a few months ago. Other than Joel’s muted drawl. The girl clasps her pad under her hands over her belly. “Are you on the good side of the law?”

Ellie’s brow twitches. “Who’s law?” She takes another bite.

“Hmm…” she feigns amusement. “You’re really gonna make me ask your name?”

That time Ellie almost does choke. She swallows. “Sorry, don’t meet many people on the road. I’m Ellie.”

“Ellie, that’s nice. I’m Maedlyn.”

“You know there are other tables in this place, young lady,” Guillermo is back in view, suspicion on his face.

“I know, G, I’m on it.” She favors Ellie with one more look before moving on.

It doesn’t take long to finish the burrito, but Ellie is not ready to leave. She pulls out her journal and starts drawing. She has to repeatedly suppress the urge to draw Maedlyn.

It’s Tuesday today—she’d had to ask someone—so folks wouldn’t be out too late, and sun sets early this time of year. She glances out the window and the orange glow of sunset is evident. She doesn’t have anything like a plan. She frowns, and keeps drawing.

“An artist? Not what I would have guessed.”

Ellie doesn’t look up this time. “This is just a hobby. Helps time pass, when it needs to.” She looks up. “You’re not gonna kick me out are you?”

“No.” Maedlyn is leaning against the side of the booth and giving her an appraising look. “You got somewhere to stay tonight, sweetie?”

“Yeah,” Ellie lies, “I’m just… taking my time.”

“Just taking your time… and helping time pass, when it needs to.”

Ellie pauses at that. Chagrined, she can’t help but hum a little laugh.

She hears fabric on wood and looks up expecting Maedlyn to walk away, but she’s sliding into the booth across from her. This time Ellie can’t help but swallow.

“Wanna show me some of your drawings?”

Ellie looks around. There’s only a couple tables left, also having quiet conversations. “Yeah… I’d love to, actually, but, um… I had another book for that. It’s just… not here.”

“What’s that, then?”

Ellie wants to smack herself. Why did she pull out her journal? “It’s nothing. Tell you what, I could draw you something.” She turns to a new page.

“Like what?” Maedlyn asks. A few strands of hair have escaped their bonds and hang down across her lightly freckled forehead. There’s no way. It’s too perfect. She has to know exactly what she’s doing. “Me?”

“Uh.” Ellie’s mind races. Would that be appropriate? Is she—

Maedlyn starts laughing and even claps her hands. “I’m just teasing you. Alright, I’ll be honest. I’d really like to see some of those drawings.” She inclines her head to Ellie’s journal.

Ellie’s torrential desire to do anything Maedlyn asks is poisoned to death by the contents of her journal.

“Here, just hold them up in front of you. I’m nearsighted, I won’t be able to read. I promise.”

Ellie takes a deep breath. This girl… is trouble, isn’t she? She knows what she’s doing a little too well.

Maedlyn’s eyes are pregnant. This is a chance. Is it the last one? This girl’s good at getting her way, isn’t she?

Ellie throws caution to the wind, and starts turning pages, backward.

“She’s pretty. Pretty young, too.” Maedlyn eyes Ellie. “I like that dress.”

“Dinah.” Ellie doesn’t feel like elaborating.

“Who are these fellows? Wow, they got character!”

“Lem and Benji. They sold me Eddie. Real good horse.”

“Good people?”

Ellie shrugs. “Mostly.”

“Oh,” she’s not pleased. “Where’s that?”

“Chicago. Went bad, I guess.”

“That’s sad, I kinda wanted to go there.”

Ellie’s eyes move between her pages and Maedlyn. Maedlyn’s eyes seem to mostly follow the pictures. Mostly.

“Where’s that? That’s a lot of buildings.”

“New York.”

“New York, New York?” Maedlyn is eyeing Ellie, skeptical.

“That’s right.”

“You did not go to New York! Is there anyone there? What’s it like?”

Ellie chuckles and puts her journal down. She tries to explain her limited experience. Honestly, it was huge, and there was so much more she could have seen and done. But she got out safe and that’s what counts.

Maedlyn is biting at her thumb. “Well, maybe it’s not fair but I always wanted to go there and now I’m a bit miffed—by yourself?” She leans in, and Ellie blushes again.

“Yeah. It… wasn’t smart.” They laugh. Ellie turns the page.

“Is that… the Firefly symbol?” Maedlyn is actually confused. “Are you one of ‘em?”

Ellie shakes her head. “No, but we’ve crossed paths before. I was sort of… reminiscing.”

“Ooh, who are those guys? I don’t like them.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either. It’s why they look like that.”

“Are they… still alive?

Ellie shrugs. “Who knows? Probably, they were assholes.” She turns to her Georgia landscape. When she looks at Maedlyn, she distinctly sees her eyes moving side to side. “This look familiar?”

Maedlyn’s eyes snap back to her. “Oh? Um, well.” She has a funny little smile. “It looks like a lot of places, but…”

“It’s Georgia. God it was hot.”

Maedlyn’s smile may as well be made of diamonds. “My mama’s from Missouri but my daddy’s from there.”

“You live with them here now?”

“Well, no. My daddy’s gone, and my mama lives across town. I got a little room out back here.”

“Oh, why not together?”

“Isn’t that a little personal?”

Ellie doesn’t miss a beat. She looks down at her open journal and back to Maedlyn. She’s doing this thing where she’s nibbling at her left thumb. It must be a nervous gesture. Her eyes concede.

“Better that she and I don’t live in the same house, is all. Don’t worry, I visit all the time.”

“Actually,” Ellie chuckles, and her face sags as she thinks of Joel. “I get it.” She turns another page.

“Oh, I like her. Look at that hair…”

“Bresha.”

Maedlyn doesn’t say anything, but gives Ellie a secretive smile that she doesn’t entirely like.

“It was New Orleans. That place was… maybe the best part of the year.” She tells Maedlyn about the culture and the food and the party that covers half the city. “I had a daiquiri, with shaved ice. It was incredible.”

“That sounds incredible.” Every once in a while, Maedlyn’s mask slips and he gets a glimpse of a different side of her. “Was it expensive?”

“Yes, but I know how to forage.”

“Ooh, I like it. Who’s that?”

It’s Marlene. Ellie frowns. She’s not sure she wants to talk about Texas. This is getting pretty far back. She flips the page, then lifts the next one so only she can see it. A chill goes down her spine and she snaps the book shut.

“Was that… a baby?”

Shit, she must have seen the page with JJ. God, at least she didn’t see the next page.

“Little young to be a sibling…”

“He’s not mine, he—“ she winces. That’s sort of not true. And this isn’t going how she wants.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything…”

Of course you do, Maedlyn. Ellie makes a decision.

“It’s JJ. Dina’s boy.”

“Oh!” Maedlyn sits up straight and the gears start turning.

“I was helping raise him. And I miss him sometimes. That’s it.” Ellie’s eyes go firm. “And that’s between us, ok?”

“Oh.” Maedlyn is clearly caught off guard, but interested. Her act is suffering, though. “You and Dina? I didn’t know. Though I did susp—“ Her eyes go wide and she stops. She blushes. It’s worth the whole while. She frowns. “But I thought she lived with a man.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Oh.” Her blush deepens. “I am acting like such a fool, I apologize—“

Ellie waves it off, smiling.

Another patron catches Maedlyn’s eye, her mouth twitches. “Shoot, I—can you just give me a minute? Please don’t leave.” She puts her hand on Ellie’s for a second, then goes to do her job.

Ellie plays with her pen, tapping it on the cover of her journal. She can’t help but smile. That went pretty well, all things considered.

A few minutes later, Maedlyn slides back into her booth. “Hey, G lets me get away with a lot, since—“ she rolls her eyes around but doesn’t say it. You bring in business, yeah. “But he’s gonna wanna close up soon. I’d like to chat with you more, though. You gonna be in Jackson long?”

Ellie purses her lips and tilts her head. Maedlyn is visibly disappointed.

“You came all the way back and you’re not gonna stay?”

“I got… something that I have to do. Once I do that, maybe I’ll come to Jackson for good.” Ellie thinks for a minute, then she leans in. Maedlyn leans in too. “I’ll tell you something I’m not gonna tell the others here in Jackson.” She has Maedlyn’s total attention. “I’m not sure… I fit here in Jackson anymore. I’ve kinda been ruined for the people that cared about me most… Except Maria, she’s all good. I mean, there’s a lot of memories here… but some of them are really bad.”

“And Dina’s here, too. And JJ.”

“JJ is the number one reason I think I could stay. I…” Ellie scratches her nose and looks away. Her voice almost broke. “I just miss him.”

Something’s cooking in Maedlyn’s mind. She takes a breath and goes to speak—

“M, girl, where are you.” Guillermo wanders from behind the bar, coat in hand. “Still chatting! Of course. You would starve my customers.”

“Oh G, you know it was just end of night stragglers.”

“Sí, and here we have queen straggler.” He looks down his nose at Ellie. “But you enjoyed, didn’t you? I saw you eat.”

Ellie smiles involuntarily. “Yeah, despite your best efforts.” He looks almost offended. “That burrito was so spicy I’m surprised I’m not breathing fire.”

“Oh!” He waves his hand. “Please! Come back tomorrow, I’ll make you a spicy burrito.” His smile fades. “But M, girl, you know I love you, but it’s late. I have to close up.”

“I know G, thanks for letting us chat so long.” She gives him a hug.

“Yes, yes, now say goodbye.” He wanders off to the back.

Ellie walks out onto the board walk in front of Guillermo’s into frigid winds with traces of snow on them. It was going to be cold night.

“Well?”

Ellie turns, and Maedlyn is propping the door open. She has her arms crossed at her waist. “I believe this might be the last chance you have at saying something charming?”

Ellie smiles. She looks around at the dark, snowy night. Then down at herself, shrugging her hands as if to say, this is it. She walks up to Maedlyn, who gathers herself, until their faces are inches apart. The moment carries on.

“I lied about having somewhere to stay tonight.”

For a moment, Maedlyn is motionless. Then her scoff is so tamped, it’s inaudible.

* * *

“For the record, sugar, homelessness is not charming.”

Maedlyn’s ‘room’ is just that. A single, straight flight of stairs up to a sort of loft situation, a little kitchen/living room/bedroom section, and a bathroom. It was well decorated, though. Lots of red and orange, and embroidery that Ellie really liked. There was a big one of a rooster hanging by her stove.

“Your place is,” says Ellie. “Also I’m not homeless, I travel.”

“Mm, a rambler then.”

“Not sure I like what that implies.”

“Well I did see your journal.”

“Excuse me?” Ellie drops her bag at the foot of Maedlyn’s bed. Immediately, she realizes it looks a bit presumptuous, but she acts like she meant it. She’s tempted to ask where Maedlyn is sleeping, but that would be pushing it. “Where am I sleeping?” There’s a loveseat, but even Ellie doesn’t like the idea of sleeping on that all night.

“It’s a bit early, Ellie.”

Ellie waits for her to explain but she doesn’t. Maedlyn puts on a kettle. “Hot Toddie?”

“Absolutely.” Ellie didn’t realize how much she wanted that.

Maedlyn kicks a device on the kitchen floor. The electric heater turns on.

“What!? Those things use hella power! They would never give me one!”

“Well, I’m privileged. No fireplace, so they decided they’d rather I didn’t freeze.”

Ellie superficially examines it. The heat is already pouring off it. A lot of red-hot metal though, kind of a fire hazard. Anyway, it’s good, because she can still see her breath in here.

“Gotta keep Maedlyn happy, right?”

She actually smirks at that. “If they know what’s good for ‘em. What are you doing over there?”

Ellie is digging through her pack. “Well, I gotta offer you something for saving the rest of my fingers, don’t I?”

“Mm, okay.”

Ellie hesitates. “It’s kinda cheesy, but…” She pulls out a miniature Statue of Liberty. It’s made out of plastic, but it’s solid and has a wood base. The brass placard is illegible, but Ellie hadn’t had the means or need to clean it.

“Oh that ain’t cheesy at all.” She takes it out of Ellie’s hands and admires it. She narrows her eyes. “How big is it really?”

Ellie scratches her head, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t actually see it that close. I had to be real careful in Jersey. I’d say at least ten stories, though, probably more, actually. It’s really green like that, too. Supposedly it’s all old copper.”

Maedlyn listens patiently, then smiles. “Green, huh?” Her eyes flit from one of Ellie’s to the other. “Fair tender.” She puts the statue up on a shelf next to a picture of her and a girl. Ellie thinks about asking but Maedlyn shakes her head without even looking at her.

Once the Hot Toddies are done, they sit down on her bed, sipping them. It’s starting to warm up a little.

“Ellie, can I ask you something personal?”

Ellie considers. “Well, you can ask.”

“Do you want to be back with Dina?”

Jesus, no wonder she asked first. “Ah… between you and me?”

Maedlyn nods.

“This entire conversation?”

She nods again.

“Yes, but it won’t happen.” She pushes her fingers into her eyes. “Can’t happen.”

“What if Dina wanted it too?”

Ellie feels a flare of anger. “Don’t ask me that.”

“I’m sorry.” Maedlyn swirls her drink in her lap. “You know Ellie—between you and me,” she makes her voice sound huskier. Is that what she thinks I sound like? “—life is great here, really. But it doesn’t really feel like home yet.”

Ellie is just sitting there, but she can feel her breath quickening. Maedlyn’s anything but skiddish. Her eye contact is… so strong. Ellie doesn’t know what to say. This is starting to feel like a bad idea.

“You didn’t hesitate long to show me those drawings… I really appreciated that. I don’t have a lot of conversations like that. Only now I feel like…” She plays with the bunches of her bed quilt. “You’re kinda holding back.”

The way Maedlyn looks at her then makes her get up from the bed.

“Ellie, wait! Please don’t go. Okay, I can back off. I know I’m pushy.”

Ellie swallows. She’s starting to slip. Fuck, why am I slipping now? She keeps seeing Joel’s face. The worst face, with all the blood. Something moves in her chest and she almost throws up. She lands on a knee and spills half her drink.

Maedlyn is on her in a second but Ellie can’t hear her clearly. The drink leaves her hand and Maedlyn is guiding her to the loveseat. She lays Ellie down. She’s talking to her, but Ellie doesn’t understand. She's gesturing to her chest. Ellie nods, closing her eyes. Slow your breathing. That’s right, just slow it down.

She doesn’t open her eyes for ten minutes. Long after her breathing is steady.

Maedlyn is leaning against the foot of her bed, watching, like Ellie figured she’d be. She takes a sip from her mug, and inclines her head to the little table by the loveseat, where there’s another mug.

Ellies grabs it and takes a sip to find it mostly full. She had switched their mugs.

“Seems like travel has made me a terrible houseguest.”

“No.” It’s a different voice. The fetching accent is more muted. “Can I sit?”

Ellie nods.

Maedlyn sits. Her body language is less… inviting, but Ellie can feel her against her leg. She goes to speak, but Ellie speaks first.

“I’m not much good for it, these days, I think.” Her voice wavers. “What you want from me.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I suspect you’ll always be good for it. If you’ll allow it.”

Ellie shakes her head without knowing why. “Why do you want it? What do y’all see in me? I’m—“

“Maybe you’d have to be me to see it.” Maedlyn just sits there. Her mug isn’t steaming anymore. Ellie fully expected she’d be out of luck after that episode, but Maedlyn’s being patient. “You want me to be honest?” she asks. It’s a real question.

“Okay,” she says, raspy.

“When you look me in the eyes, it provokes strong feelings, doesn’t it?”

Ellie blinks. Who’s being honest, now? “Possibly.”

Maedlyn’s smile is genuinely warm. “Well,” she looks away with false modesty, “you might not be the only one.” She puts her mug down. “But when you walked up to me, in that doorway, snowflakes in your hair and that twist on your lips… and you looked into my eyes? I felt…” Her eyes were half closed, lips just parted in a wistful smile. Then her eyes opened wide for an instant. “You don’t know what you got, girl.”

Ellie lips fumble, but she has nothing. She can’t tear her eyes away from Maedlyn.

Maedlyn’s smile broadens. “You’re doing it right now.” She pats her lap, standing up. “Honestly, Ellie. I don’t think I’ve ever been made to work so hard.” She lifts her hands over her back, and in one smooth motion, her dress flutters quietly to the floor.

Frozen for a moment, Ellie stops thinking, and starts moving.


	3. A Demand

It’s a biting kind of cold in pre-dawn Jackson. Ellie adjusts her gloves. Sky looks clear at least, bright gold-orange of impending sunrise. Patrol awaits. Then she sees her leaning up against the rail, watching the kids in the playground throw snowballs at each other.

Ellie’s stomach twists. She’s not sure she’s ready for this… but there’s no chickening out now. The snow crunches under her feet and the girl turns at the sound.

Maedlyn’s just as cute bunched in a fur hat and covered in heavy winter clothes. “Ready to give ‘em Hell, sugar?”

Before Ellie can respond, she sees a shadow in the corner of her eye.

“Ellie?” The gravelly voice shakes Ellie. There’s a tremor through the ground. The kids are gone.

Joel walks around the jungle gym in the green button up he had in Pittsburgh, looking sheepish. “Uh… So is she, like, your… girlfriend?”

Ellie’s breathing is quickening. Maedlyn’s still staring, smile unchanged. Ellie sees something in the corner of her eye. A muscular woman a blonde braid and no face advances on Joel from behind with a golf club.

“Joel!” Ellie shrieks. Then the club breaks skull.

* * *

When Ellie wakes up, she’s not breathing. She lets it rattle out of her. The dream is pressing on her like it wants to smother her.

 _No_ … _please just let me be_ …

Joel’s face keeps appearing in her mind.

 _Later, please_ …

After a couple minutes it subsides. Sometime after that, she opens her eyes.

Everything around her is light and color. There is a ray of golden sunlight on the white, wood panel wall of the room. She lifts her head. There’s an embroidered rooster above the stove. She lays back into the pillow. The air is cold, but she’s completely warm under a thick comforter. And there’s a source of heat in bed with her.

She moves her right hand an inch and encounters Maedlyn’s bare hip. She smiles involuntarily, but she’s still, not wanting to wake her.

It’s late enough that Jackson should be up and at it, but it’s quiet in this neighborhood for now. It’s even more peaceful than waking up alone to the dawning weald. She wants it to go on forever. On the other hand…

She rolls her head over and is greeted by the explosion of Maedlyn’s bright red hair pouring across her pillow. A sliver of pale, freckled shoulder is visible underneath it. The effect is so strong on Ellie that she looks away, smiling so big she starts laughing.

She hears a rustling and Maedlyn turns around and looks at her, lucid eyes suggesting she’s been awake for a few moments at least. The lower half of her face is covered by her hair, probably on purpose. Does the act ever end? Ellie smirks. Starting to seem like it’s on all the time.

“Something funny?” Maedlyn asks.

“You.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh yeah? Well is this funny?” Maedlyn rises up, throws the covers off of both of them and straddles Ellie, giving her a look that just about stops her heart.

Ellie swallows. “No, that right there is dead serious.”

Maedlyn smirks. She’s blushing too, though. “You know Ellie, I’m not actually that easy…” She looks at her suspiciously. “I’m beginning to think I might be the victim of your wonton charms.”

“Bullshit! You freaking ran the show yesterday.”

“Did I? Maybe, right up until we were naked.”

Ellie starts giggling, then Maedlyn starts giggling, then they giggle harder at themselves.

“We should—“ Maedlyn starts, then there’s a sharp knock at the door. Not a neighborly knock, either. It sounds authoritative. Maedlyn spins, shoulders hunched like she’s about to get in trouble.

“Shoot, let me get that.” She looks at Ellie. “You might want to cover up.” She gets up and quickly dons a holey robe, to Ellie’s great disappointment. _Jeez_ , _I guess a better robe can be my next present_. There’s another knock. “Coming!” Then, to Ellie’s surprise, she stops in front of the mirror and expertly ties up her hair again, to her further disappointment. Then she stops to kick the heater back on.

When Maedlyn opens the door, Ellie is nonplussed to see Edna’s stony face.

“Maedlyn,” Edna addresses her in monotone, immediately looking over her shoulder. “Ellie.”

Ellie is just propped up on her elbows, chest barely covered, mouth open. “Are you fucking _kidding me_?”

“Afraid not. Maria wants to see you.” Edna’s fully dressed in her typical vest, trousers and brown leather trench.

Maedlyn turns and looks at her, eyes wide, far too amused. “Wow. Real celebrity, huh?”

“Maedlyn,” says Edna.

“Can I have five fucking minutes, please?” says Ellie.

“That you can, but if you try and sneak out, I’m liable to be cross.” Without further address, Edna turns and crosses her massive arms, weathered coat rustling.

“She’ll be right out, Edna.” Maedlyn closes the door. She starts closed-mouth laughing at Ellie like they should both find it funny. “What did you _do_?”

Ellie lets out a breath. “I left.” She throws off the blanket and puts her feet on the cold wood floor. “I mean, I would have fucking come to see her today anyway.” She pulls her jeans on. “Like _this_?”

When she looks, Maedlyn is watching her shamelessly. Maedlyn bits her lip mischievously.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” says Ellie.

“Oh? Does it make it any better if I admit it?”

“Not really.” Ellie binds her belt and pulls her shirts on, one after the other. She looks. Maedlyn is still watching. Ellie finds it exceedingly difficult to be mad at that face. “Thank you,” Ellie says. For some reason, that makes Maedlyn’s act slip again, smile fading. “For putting me up last night.”

“You need all the fingers you got left.”

Ellie glances. If there’s double meaning there Maedlyn doesn’t give it away. She shoulders her pack. “Well. Edna’s waiting.”

Maedlyn considers her for a moment before sauntering over, ending with her arms pressed against Ellie’s chest. She’s real close, looking Ellie right in the eye. Ellie feels her heart quickening again. “Now, that’s not gonna be a one time thing, is it?”

Ellie’s afraid to speak, but she keeps up her confident face and shakes her head.

“That’s good, because if it were, I’m liable to be cross…” She closes her eyes and leans in. Ellie can feel her warm, soft breath on her lips, but… nothing happens. She opens her eyes to see Maedlyn smiling and leaning away. She walks back over and starts making her bed.

“Are you…?”

Maedlyn shoots Ellie another maddening smile. “Time to go, sugar.”

* * *

Lousy as the situation is, Edna is not the type to rub it in. She doesn’t even turn when Ellie walks onto the landing, just starts walking down steps. Ellie sighs and follows.

“So why did Maria send you? Thought I might resist?”

“Because I’m prudent.”

Ellie waits, but Edna’s not one for much elaboration. “Okay.”

“For your information, we have standing orders to report immediately if we ever spot you. But to keep it quiet.”

Edna’s head of the guard, so Ellie knows that’s who she means by ‘we.’ “Maria knows me well.”

“That she does.”

“You didn’t get me last time, though.”

There’s a rare, bitter twist to Edna’s lips. “That we didn’t.”

“How did you know where to find me?” She doesn’t say Dinesh’s name, in case he hasn’t been implicated.

“Word.”

Ellie frowns, looking at the packed dirt they were treading. “Really?”

“Just one night, hm?” Edna gives her a glance.

Ellie is taken aback, then indignant. She is about to defend her privacy when Edna kills the subject.

“You’re not in trouble. Not really. But you probably already know that.”

Ellie’s mouth twists. “Depends on how you define trouble.”

“Not in trouble with _Maria_ , maybe I should say.”

“How much do you know about my affairs, Edna?”

“Little.”

They were crossing Fother Square, to the broad, red bricked Hensley Trading Company, from which Jackson is effectively ruled. The sky is a beautiful cobalt, the sun a burning white disk already climbing up it. It was probably 8:30 already. Ellie hasn’t slept in this late in ages. Probably largely on account of Maedlyn’s unbelievably comfortable bed. And how late they were up.

Ellie had ditched her ratty hoody in a trash can last night. Now she’s catching quite a few looks, but no interruptions. A benefit to being briskly escorted by Edna.

They walk in the open double doors, past the desks of Jackson’s adjudicators, now numbering four, apparently. After passing through the small warehouse, where arms and other strategically critical goods are stored, they climb the spiral staircase to Maria’s office.

Edna leaves her at the doorstep. She offers a terse farewell, but when Ellie turns she feels her hand on her shoulder. Edna’s sky blue eyes could be quite icy. But not right now.

“Good seeing you around here, Ellie. Like to see it a lot more.”

Before Ellie can think to respond, Edna starts thumping her way down the stairs. Ellie turns and pushes Maria’s door open. 

Maria’s looking out the wide window over town, wearing grey pants and her favorite off-white coat. Her blonde hair keeps getting whiter. She turns and smiles right away upon seeing Ellie. “Hey there, El.”

No matter what kind of trouble she got in, Ellie just about always found a welcoming smile waiting for her on Maria’s face.

“Not even gonna act like I’m in the shit?”

Maria walks over and searches Ellie’s face. She even brings a hand up to her cheek, studying. “Well, to that, I have a feeling you’ve been punishing yourself plenty.”

That touches a little deeper than Ellie wanted, and her eyes drift to Maria’s carpet.

“So what’s the word, kid?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you get her?”

“Oh.” Ellie didn’t expect the question because she knew Maria never cared much about vengeance. It was never personal for her like it was personal for Tommy and Ellie. But she wasn’t asking for her own sake. Ellie sucks in a breath. “Maria, do you want me to be honest with you? I’m asking because I don’t think I can be honest with Tommy and I know you—“

Maria just shakes her head. “Why don’t you just tell me, Ellie.”

Another rattling breath makes its way out of Ellie. “I found Abby. Again. It was… ugly. There was a gang down in Santa Barbara. She got picked up. Jailed for months. I wasn’t gonna let anything stop me so I went in there to bust her out. There was… a lot of fighting. It was a mess. I went down to the beach. It was foggy. There were these… pillars, they called them. Where they put people they really hated, to die. Arms hanging up here.” Ellie’s eyes are far away but she shows Maria the position. “I was standing underneath her. We saw each other. I was as surprised as she was.

“She was almost dead. She was probably half the weight she was in Seattle. Her face didn’t even look the same. Her eyes…” Horror tinged Ellie’s features. “I cut her down. She cut the kid down. We stumbled down to some motorboats. She went to leave, but I…” A sick expression catches Ellie’s face. “I made her fight me. I was drowning her. Then I saw…” Her mouth screws up. She can’t say that. “Then I saw it wasn’t gonna be worth it and I let her go. She watched me the whole time as she boated off into the fog. I wonder what she was thinking.”

Finally Ellie comes back to herself. Her cheeks are wet. Shit, what happened? “I’m sorry, Maria, I don’t know why I went on like that.”

Maria doesn’t say anything, she cups Ellie’s cheek again, pulls her in and gives her a long kiss on the forehead.

“You told me that because you needed to, Ellie. A person shouldn’t hold something like that inside themselves.”

Feeling small, Ellie nods eagerly.

“Been thinking about going after her again?”

Ellie recoils. “What? No, God no, Maria. I—“

Maria waves it off. “Just checking. So what’s next?”

Ellie hastily wipes her tears away. She knows Maria wants her to say _Jackson_. “Well… It’s nice to be back in town. I ran into Dinesh yesterday… Lot of new faces around too. There are some people I have to go see, you know that. After that… I’ve got a new mission. A more important one.”

“Care to fill me in?” If Maria is disappointed, she doesn’t show it. She has her stoic leader face on.

Ellie’s not gonna go around telling everyone, but it’s the least she could do for Maria. She tells her, even walks her through how she got to where she’s at.

Maria listens patiently. “Yeah,” she starts, then lets out a kind of bitter burst of air, “pretty hard to argue with that.” Walking back around her desk, Maria pulls open a drawer which Ellie happens to know is generally occupied by a bottle. She kicks it shut again. “Alright, Pumpkin, if you plan on launching a mission like that from this settlement, I’m afraid I’m going to have to saddle you with a demand.”

She called her _Pumpkin_? That’s what Maria would call her when she first came to Jackson and she wanted to rile her up. She must be mad…

Ellie blinks. “Wait, a demand?”

Maria sits in her high-backed wooden chair and crosses her arms. “You need to take someone with you.”

Ellie’s initial urge to argue peters out. She frowns, eyes closed, trying to figure how to come back.

“Maria… Here’s the thing. Up in Seattle, I had Dina, and after that Jesse. But the work I was doing… that was for me to do alone. I just spent the last ten months out there alone, and I avoided almost all the trouble I came across.”

“Meaning?”

“If I go out there,” she points, “with someone on my heels, I have a feeling we’ll both be less safe than if I’m by myself.”

Watching her, Maria nods. “And what happens when you fall down somewhere and break your leg? When someone does sneak up on you and clubs you out? You just die? And it’s all over?”

Ellie grimaces. “Maria, I really don’t think you understand how careful I am.”

“Do you realize how much you sound like Tommy right now?” Maria asks.

Ellie doesn’t like that at all. She frowns.

“Listen, Ellie,” Maria scoots her chair back and starts walking around the desk toward her. “I really don’t think it’s a good thing, spending that kind of time, in this kind of world, by yourself. Based on what I’ve seen… Do you know what I’m afraid of you losing out there? Other than your life?”

Maria’s arms are still crossed. Her wrinkled brow feels motherly, not that Ellie would know from experience. Ellie shakes her head.

“Your humanity.”

Ellie rocks back on her heels. Her heart beats faster and her minds starts to spin. She clenches her fist.

“Fuck you.” She has never said that to Maria before.

“Please say yes, Ellie.”

Ellie looks straight down at the carpet. It’s one of those big, eastern ones with all the swirls and patterns. She’s feeling dizzy.

“Ellie?” The concern is easy to hear.

Ellie pushes all of it down, looking Maria in the eye. “Maria, who would want to?”

Maria thinks about it, but doesn’t say anything. She looks at Ellie and tilts her head.

 _What the hell does that mean_? “Do you have like a list or something?”

“Nope,” Maria leans on her desk, “but it’s Wednesday, so you can find him down at the mess hall at about noon, making a waffle sandwich.”

What? Him? Waffle sandwich?

“I trust you’ll consider him thoroughly.”

Ellie’s not used to conversations with Maria having this kind of weight. She nods. “Oh, I’ll consider.” She turns to leave.

“And Ellie?”

Their eyes meet again.

“I love you, girl. And I’m not the only one. Don’t forget.”

Ellie feels small again, all the sudden. How does Maria do that? She knows she’s blushing, but she meets the older woman’s eyes and nods.

* * *

Clint looks his sandwich over. Now, they hadn’t had Vern’s actual breakfast sausage but they did have ground Elk patties. And Maple syrup, which was the real key. Bacon would have been perfect, but…

Jean was disgusted when he put the pickles on. He thought they all knew by now.

“Jean someday you’re gonna open your eyes and see the light.”

“More like open my throat and huck it up.”

He liked Jean, she was alright. Kind of a dick back in school though.

He takes his first bite. Lot of waffle, hunk of patty, corner of a pickle, and that blessed, blessed Maple syrup to bring it together. He’d give it an 8/10. He’s about to try again when someone plunks down across from him.

For a second he’s taken aback. Half the person sitting across from him is a stranger, and half of her is someone he never thought he’d see again.

“Holy shit, _Ellie_?”

She looks almost… dissatisfied with him for a second, then she smirks.

“In the flesh.”

She has a waffle sandwich in front of her. Looked similar to his, except a little of Olmwood’s funky cheddar and no pickles. 7/10 maybe.

“Am I gonna regret this?” she asks him.

The sandwich? He cocks an eyebrow. “Doubtful, but there’s no accounting for taste.”

She snorts and takes a bite. She thinks for a minute then starts nodding. “Not bad. Someone needs to ask Olmwood what he puts in this cheese, though.”

He chuckles. Then drops his sandwich. “Okay Ellie, what the fuck is going on here? How long have you been in town? Why are you talking to _me_? Do you even know my name? Does Dina know you’re in town? Cause I’m not getting in trouble with her—“

Ellie shakes her head. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone there. He’s totally off guard, he doesn’t like it.

“I’m just eating my sandwich dude, be cool.”

Okay, so bullshit. Great. Well, if she wants something, she can ask for it. He takes another bite. Pickle’s cut too thick, 5/10.

“I’ve heard you’re doing well on Patrols,” says Ellie.

He considers her. “Had a good amount of practice.”

“I heard you’ve been taking extra shifts like every week.” Ellie chews. He can tell she’s really enjoying it. “Got nothing better to do?”

His brow pinches for a second. What, she fucking checking in on him now? “I like my job, and I’m good at it. Make good way around here. I don’t need much, alright?”

For some reason Ellie nods subtly at that. “Saving up for anything?”

“Reginald’s got a real nice Remington on display I’ve had my eye on.”

Her eyes light up. “Oh, that thing’s been there forever! You have been saving up.”

The cafeteria’s pretty full, between Patrol shifts. Their table’s only big enough for the two of them. That’s why Clint picked it. He’s social on Patrol, but he likes to eat alone. Typical cafeteria chatter, no one should be able to overhear them.

“Ellie, what the hell is this? You’ve literally spoken to me twice before. And now you come back after over a year? Trying to ruin my sandwich?”

She chuckles and glances at it. “Dude are those _pickles_?”

“Ellie—“

“Alright, alright.” She’s got something in her eye… something mischievous. “Just be cool for now, alright, Clint?”

He scoffs. At least she knew his name. “I guess I’ll just have to assume that at the end of this, something is in it for me.”

Maddeningly she doesn’t respond or meet his eyes, taking a swig of milk.

“How long has it been since you ranged outside?” Ellie asks.

“Thirty minutes.”

“No, I mean, since you traveled outside Jackson.”

He’s surprised at the question. “I guess… not since we moved here. Four years ago.” His cheek pinches. Not great memories, travelling across country. “Different times, then.”

She looks him up and down briefly. “Yeah, you were different too.”

He beams, a little proud. “Sure was. Had to do what I needed to to protect mom. She didn’t like me patrolling at first, but they wanted me. Hugh hooked me up with his weight set, too. What do you think?” He pulls up his right sleeve and flexes his shoulder and bicep.

Ellie looks unimpressed. “I’ve seen better.”

He cocks his head to the side. _Is this chick for real_? He shakes his head. _Something’s in it for me_ , he thinks. _Something’s in it for me_. He takes another bite.

“How many infected you think you’ve killed?”

He snorts, chewing. “I don’t fucking know.”

She nods. “How many people?”

That’s an ugly question, but she wouldn’t ask without a reason. “Seven.”

She winces subtly at that. Whether it’s because the number was too high, or too low, he’s not sure.

“Ellie, my patience does have its limits. And so does lunch. I’m supposed to meet Hugh after this.”

Ellie’s looking at her plate, but she nods. She licks some syrup off her finger. “Better finish that up, then. I’ll walk with you.”

* * *

The sun is bright overhead, and it’s actually starting to make Clint warm. He and Ellie walk down Poulton Street, that cobbled one with all the old shops up the side. Mostly one and two room units, now, with Hugh’s at the far end.

Ellie hasn’t said too much and Clint isn’t inclined to keep asking questions just to be blown off. He keeps eyeballing her as she walks a few feet in front of him. He notices a sort of grace, or maybe more of a slink, here and there. Carefully planned and orchestrated movements. It’s subtle, but if you pay attention she’s almost swaggering down the street. She looks around a lot too. More than she needs to. Like she’s expecting a threat.

He decided pretty early that he wasn’t going to let this get weird.

He and just about every other guy in Jackson remember when Ellie was the prettiest girl in town for a long time. Shit, he was fourteen when he first laid eyes on her. She was so distant to everyone, though. Plus her old man was quietly forbidding… And then the possibility of that narrative kind of went out the window when she started dating Dina.

Jesse never gave up though. Clint’s not sure who else saw it, but he sure saw it. It was pretty sad to watch. Him chasing after his ex-girlfriend and the girl he really wanted, all the way to Seattle. Then never coming back.

Clint’s mouth twists and he looks away. He’s kind of mad at Ellie. He doesn’t know what she did up in Seattle, but it wasn’t good. Then she just ditched Dina and her kid. And the girl who sat at the table across from him today… it’s not even the Ellie he remembers.

So who is this Ellie and what does she want?

When he looks back at her she’s watching him with a serious expression this time. He looks away, embarrassed.

“We’re here,” he hears Ellie say.

No they weren’t, they were a block from Hugh’s. Then he sees her walk into the Court.

The Court is a cracked up old basketball court that they had turned into a part-time training area for hand-to-hand fighting, when people weren’t using it to play the game. Drew, an older patroller who found he prefers training to the elements, sits on his folding metal chair. He has a green tee pulled over a strong upper body, and one of those metal whistles dangling from his neck. A lot of his trainees call him Coach.

Two puberty aged boys are wrestling in one of the circles as Drew watches. They’re both totally clumsy, newcomers to Jackson. A much bigger one has the other in sort of chokehold, but he’s not applying enough force and the other one keeps threatening to break free, or bring them both stumbling to the padding they’ve laid out.

“Come one, Chet,” Drew barks, “pin him or shove him off you!”

Chet looks much stronger, but he’s sweating and Clint can tell how nervous he is. The other boy finally breaks free and shoves Chet, and suddenly they’re circling again.

“How’d you like us to give these kiddos a grown-up lesson?”

It’s Ellie, and when Drew sees her he can’t believe his eyes for a second. “Well you’d have to grow up first!” He laughs loudly and stands up, pulling Ellie in to a big hug. She smiles back, and for a second it is the old Ellie standing in front of Clint.

They catch up for a minute after Drew tells the younger boys to end the embarrassment of a match. More than a few eyes are on Ellie, curious or otherwise. Clint notices some eyes on him, too. He’s wearing his patrol gear, and he probably looks the part. These kids are probably wondering when they get gear like that of their own. He gives them a curt nod, but that’s all.

“Well, alright, then,” Drew agrees. “Y’all have to keep it clean, though. These are innocent eyes.” He sweeps his arms around to indicate all the kids present, then finishes by pointing at his own face.

Ellie shoves him. “Yeah, right.” She looks at Clint. “Alright, come on then.” She walks into the circle.

Clint’s careful about his face but his shoulders go tight. _What the hell are you doing_ , _Ellie_?

She doesn’t wait, she takes her place in the circle and drops into a bouncy fighting stance, confident eyes on Clint, hint of a smile on her lips. She’s looking forward to this.

This is starting to feel like recruitment. Or scouting or something. What if Ellie’s just the messenger? Is Maria eyeing him for something more dangerous than Patrol?

A spasm touches the left side of his face when he thinks of his mom. Ellie notices. He takes his glasses and gives them to Drew. Nearsighted, not a problem in the ring.

Clint walks into the circle but no sooner had he crossed the line than Ellie advances on him.

Kinda cheap, since getting pushed outside the line is automatic defeat. Ellie feints a jab then throws a straight. He deflects with his left and shoves her hard on the chest. She doesn’t lose her balance, just returns to her stance on her side of the circle. Her smile has grown.

“Nah, little dirty, she tried to end it early but Clint’s no novice. Here, watch kids,” Drew is breaking the fight down as it goes. Clint drowns it out.

Alright, he is mad at Ellie, and it’s getting easier by the minute. Honestly, though, the last thing he wants to do is deck her in the face. But he won’t need to, if he can get an arm around her neck he can tap her out.

At first sight you’d think it was ridiculous, for him to be intimidated, but Ellie had done a lot of hard travel, young. She was known, even years ago, and she’s two years his senior. And this is the toughest he’s seen her. Forearms like twined wire.

Before she has another chance to make the first move, he closes in and throws several rapid jabs. Honestly, they’re not as fast as hers but she can’t let herself get hit by them either.

Until she does, a blow he hadn’t even intended to land bouncing off her right cheekbone. She uses the proximity to grab his right collar and almost instantly something slams into his right knee. He buckles and rolls to the ground.

“Holy shit!” someone says.

“What just happened?”

“Alright, kids, take it easy. These are pros at work.” Drew’s voice has changed a little. He had said not to get too rough.

 _God damn it_ , _Ellie_. Clint feels a little of that rage well up in him. Slick move, but if she had hit his knee just a little wrong, she could have seriously injured him. Is that what she wanted him to know?

He’s had luck in the past taking something was just used against him and turning it around on someone. He climbs to his feet, returning to stance but advancing on Ellie. He throws a couple half feints neither of them gives a shit about, then Ellie hits him with a real fast straight he doesn’t try to dodge. Her eyes open in surprise, but he’s already swinging. He plants his fist on the left side of her lips and cheek. She stumbles back and starts laughing almost immediately. Honestly, it’s disturbing. Clint could have swung a lot harder, but he knows that one hurt.

Ellie’s smiling at him like it’s just the two of them in on a joke. He can see some red on her teeth.

He needs to grab her, but she’s giving off some dangerous vibes. He would like to avoid her going for his knee again. So he keeps punching.

Ellie is definitely faster, but his wide arms help to deflect her skinny ones. She gets most of her hits in on his lower abdomen, which hurts but is pretty solid. He hasn’t been able to hit her in the face again. He was right earlier, there is a subtle grace to her movements. It’s serpentine. She writhes around, and when the moment comes, she strikes like a viper. Even on her gut he struggles to get more than a glancing blow.

Finally, she telegraphs long enough for him to grab her right straight with his left hand. She doesn’t miss a beat, kicking at his right knee again with her right leg, but that he also suspected and grabs her by the ankle. With two secure grips, he’s actually strong enough to lift her off the ground. Her limbs resist him, so he does. He’s trying to figure out how to turn that into a win when he sees what’s about to happen.

“Ellie!” Drew shouts.

Letting him suspend her, she uses all the available muscles in her body to level a savage kick with her left leg at Clint’s temple. He does the only thing he can think of and lets go.

Her kick loses most of its force and bounces off his upper right arm. She lands on her side on the mat, rolling back into a crouch.

The kids are cheering. They have no idea what almost happened.

Clint is just standing there. Ellie gets up, still smiling, eyes locked on his, with the clear message that the fight isn’t over.

“That’s enough, Ellie!” Drew steps between them. He hands Clint his glasses and traces his lips with his right hand, clearly uneasy. He spouts off some Coach stuff for the kids. “No pin but kicks to the head are foulable and you two act like you wanna fight all day. Fight goes to Clint. Now get out of my circle.”

Ellie’s still watching him. That smile never left her lips, but it’s not hostile, exactly. It’s…

 _This is what I’m good at_ , Clint thinks. That’s what she’s feeling. What, was that just for fun then?

“Alright, kids, talk that match over and you better have some coherent points to make about it when I come back.” Drew walks over to us. He’s not angry, more concerned. “Ellie, I said a good clean match.”

Ellie gestures to Clint. “Looks fine to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna need mouth guards? I thought you were just gonna show off some holds or something. That’s how you lose teeth, woman.”

“No mouth guards out there,” she retorts, pointing over the wall. “Plus.” She pulls back her right cheek to reveal two teeth already missing. It makes Clint’s stomach drop for some reason.

Drew shakes his head. He looks over his shoulder at Clint. “Young man you better watch yourself around this one. She’s acting like certified trouble.”

Ellie giggles like it’s just a joke, but Clint can tell Drew means it.

After Drew goes back to the kids, Ellie closes the distance between them. She slugs him in the arm.

“Are we done yet, Ellie?”

“That will conclude today’s exercises. Honestly, though, you put up a good fight.”

“You were gonna kill me at the end there.”

Ellie scratches the left side of her head. “Nah.”

“Well, what’s my verdict, then?”

She looks him up and down again. “Still in adjudication but I’ll tell you you did good today.” She turns as if to leave just like that.

“Hold on!”

She half turns.

“How sure are you that this is something I’m really gonna want?”

Ellie thinks, but not for long. “Pretty sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! There are two substantive original characters in my story, and Clint is the second one. There will be character development.
> 
> Also, Ellie is a lesbian in my story, be assured.
> 
> I appreciate all thoughts and critiques! Though I will reiterate that the story is largely written already, it's possible I might edit future chapters based on feedback.


	4. Dina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite early chapters. It's got edges, like many that will follow.
> 
> If you do comment, I love it when people point out scenes or moments or lines that they liked.
> 
> Enjoy.

Ellie stands in front of the front door for more than a few seconds. Dina painted it salmon pink. She kept wanting to paint the farmhouse door too, but Ellie had stood firm. Ellie takes a deep breath, then knocks.

She’s really, really trying not to think too hard. But through a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, she does suspect Dina knows she’s in town. Maria probably told her. Hopefully that will take the edge off of everything. Reduce the collision a little.

But apparently Maria didn’t, because when Dina opens the door in an apron, wiping her hands on it, and she looks up and meets Ellie’s eyes, her entire body goes still as stone.

This would be Ellie’s chance to say something. She might even have an idea of what to say, but her mouth doesn’t seem to want to open.

Dina blinks a few times. Her mouth twitches, and she reaches out and slaps Ellie hard.

Ellie’s head turns from the blow, some of her hair covers her face and she lets it. She slides a thumb over the skin that’s probably already turning pink. It really, really stings.

When she looks again Dina’s face twitches, but otherwise it hasn’t changed. She doesn’t say anything, she just steps back and holds the door open.

Ellie walks inside. The foyer is baby blue. There’s a doily on the entry table. The kitchen is on the left, black and white tile. The living room is on the right, with a recliner and a plaid couch. It’s really quiet. This is going worse than she feared.

She hears Dina close the door. Someone is coming down the stairs. A man approaches through the living room.

“Babe, who is it? Cause I thought I heard—“ He stops. He looks from Dina to Ellie. Then his eyes go wide with recognition. “Oh my god.”

He’s not how she drew him. He’s pretty handsome, and she’s annoyed to find it annoys her. Not really a tough guy, though. Kind of the opposite, from the looks of it.

Ellie has the absurd desire to introduce herself, but Dina’s presence next to her is like a column of fire. She turns to her, willing back tears.

“Look, I never expected you to make this easy for me, but Dina would you please say something?”

“Why now?” Dina asks.

Ellie takes a few breaths. “Don’t you want to ask me why in the first place?”

“Dina, should I…?” her husband starts, but Dina silences him with a curt gesture. She’s staring at Ellie.

“I left because—“

“Did you kill her?” Dina interrupts.

“What?” Ellie is thrown off, but Dina does not repeat herself. “Abby? No.” She shakes her head, buffeted by bad memories. “No, I fucking, it doesn’t matter, I don’t care about that anymore.”

“Good.”

“Look—“

“If you don’t care about that anymore, why did it take you a year and a half to come back here? A year and a half of me wondering if I’d ever see you again?”

“That’s why I left you…”

Dina wears a bitter smile. She fishes around in her apron pocket for a minute and produces Ellie’s pick.

She really isn’t making this easy. “I didn’t want you to worry… maybe it’s stupid… but I wasn’t ready to come back to Jackson yet. To you, Jackson was always Jackson. But for me now, it’s Jackson without Joel, okay?”

“Don’t lay this at his feet.”

“Hey!” It comes out much louder than she meant, Dina shudders and her husband tenses up. Ellie holds up her hand, which is shaking a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but we do not need to talk about Joel right now, okay?”

Dina looks down and gives a little nod. She gestures to her husband who loosens up and sighs. “I’m putting on some goddamn tea,” he says.

The anger had torn up through her almost like it used to, but now it was gone and the ice was coming back. She deftly whisks a tear from her right eye. “Dina, look, ask me whatever you want, I’ll tell you. Then I’ll leave forever if you want.”

“ _If I want_?” Dina replies incredulously. “As if I _want_ you to leave? Have you forgotten our last conversation?”

“No…” The kitchen in the pre-dawn light comes back in remarkable clarity. Along with the feeling in her chest that had driven her to abandon the two most cherished people in her world for a mission of madness. She’s starting to feel sick. “I haven’t.”

Cracks are starting to form on Dina’s face. She can tell what kind of damage she’s doing.

“We needed you.”

Ellie tries to focus on her breathing. She swallows, and nods.

“He needed you.”

That tears it, and Ellie goes for the door.

“No, _Ellie_ , stop.” Ellie pushes the door open and is halfway out when Dina grabs her by the shoulders. Ellie tries to pull away but it’s too weak. “Ellie, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m really sorry. We’re done, okay? That’s done. We’re not saying anything we don’t both know, okay? I’m not watching you fucking walk away from me again. Now close the door.”

Ellie’s shoulders are trembling and she knows Dina can feel it. She can taste her own snot. Tears are dripping from her chin. She hates this.

She uses her shirt to wipe her face, getting most of it, and closes the door.

“Girls, come on in here now.” It’s the man. He’s also wearing an apron now, which absurdly makes Ellie want to laugh, and punch his stupid fucking handsome fucking face. “Sit down, have some tea.” He looks at Ellie. “Do you want me to go?”

Ellie frowns. He’s asking her? What right did she have to tell him to go, in his own home? But Dina responds first.

“No.”

Dina guides Ellie to a chair and sits her down.

Ellie can’t tell what the tea is. Joel was more into that stuff than her. It’s earthy, though. She kind of likes it.

Dina sighs. “Ellie, what the fuck happened?”

Ellie looks up. “What do you mean?”

Dina rolls her eyes then gestures around her face.

Ellie’s confused. _Oh_. The fight with Clint. She probably looks like a goon. “I had this, thing I had to do.”

“That happened in _Jackson_?”

“It wasn’t serious, look, we can talk about that later.” Ellie sighs. “Dina, look, the thing I want more than anything right now is just for you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

Dina’s face has finally changed. Her concern is obvious and in a way, that’s worse.

“Ellie, all we ever wanted was for you to come home.”

It’s perfectly just, and it surprises Ellie how much it hurts. She doesn’t respond for a second. She decides it feels good, to have it laid out like that. She starts nodding.

“I know. I know, but I couldn’t, Dina.”

“Why not?”

“I had to… walk it off.”

“Walk what off?”

Ellie’s breaths deepen. She’s staring at the woodgrain of the table. “I don’t know if I can put it into words.”

“Can you try? Even if it’s just a little?”

Ellie releases a big breath. “I never wanted to kill Abby. I told myself I did, but it was a distraction. Once I got past the distraction…” Her mouth fumbles. She’s not sure she can do it. She does not want to cry again. “All I had left was Joel.”

The man is confused. But after looking in Dina’s eyes for a second, Ellie thinks she gets it.

“Ellie, why would you want to go through that alone?”

Ellie’s brow pinches. That doesn’t even make fucking sense. “Who the hell would I share that with?”

“Ellie, you could have shared it with me. I was there for you.”

Her husband shifts in his chair, uncomfortable.

For a second it’s the same old Dina. The big brown eyes she had fallen in love with. She meant what she was saying, she really did. Same old Dina gall, too, that she would say all that in front of her husband. But she didn’t get it. Just like none of them got it. And never would. The more of this world she travels, the more she thinks it true.

No one else would ever understand what she and Joel had meant to each other.

Ellie smiles sadly and looks away, and suddenly she just feels heavy. Dina grabs her hand.

“Ellie…”

“Babe…” her husband starts. Dina looks at him, annoyed at the distraction, shaking her head.

“Well that didn’t happen,” Ellie says, looking Dina in the eye. She removes her hand, slowly but firmly. “Because that’s now how it needed to happen for me. I don’t think I can explain better than that.”

Dina’s taken aback. “Fuck you for saying that…”

“It’s not like I want it to be that way, it’s just the way it is. I had to do it on my own.”

“You gonna do everything on your own, then?”

Ellie twists her mouth. That’s territory she’d rather avoid for the moment. But Dina doesn’t let it get away.

“Ellie, tell me you are not leaving Jackson again.”

“Dina, I—“

“Ellie, _tell me_.”

Ellie sighs. “Alright, listen.” She leans over the table and Dina does the same, eyes locked on her. The table creaks under their weight. Her husband has a hand halfway to Dina as if to support her if she falls. The moment hangs.

“I’m going to find the Fireflies again.”

Dina retracts her head. “What?”

“I’m—“

“—in the fuck, _why_?”

“Joel killed Dr. Andersen, the only person they knew at the time who could use me to formulate a cure. But there have got to be other doctors out there somewhere, and if there are, the Fireflies will find them. And the other half of the deal is still on the table.”

Dina doesn’t respond. Ellie holds out her forearm, covered in her Firefly tattoo. And the bite mark, underneath it.

In an instant, Dina’s eyes fill with tears. “Ellie please don’t.”

 _Jesus_ , _that’s her play_? “Dina—“

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Jesus, Dina—“

It goes on for some time. Eventually her husband has to turn her to face him and—bless his soul—he tells her it’s Ellie’s choice. And then he asks what the hell they are talking about, politely.

He seems like a good guy. Ellie tells him. Everything. He’s pretty gobsmacked. Eventually he finds his voice. He looks at Dina.

“She’s gotta do it.”

“ _What_?” Dina practically yells. She smacks him on the arm. “No!” she says in disbelief. She smacks his arm again.

“You told me Ellie is the biggest badass you ever met in your life, except for maybe that Viking woman. She just traveled a year and a half around the country _alone_.”

“ _Dale_ , this is not what Ellie _needs_.”

“Actually, Dina, it is.” Ellie can feel the strength in her voice. It feels good. Dina looks at her with fear in her eyes. “Dina when I left that farmhouse, I needed something and I didn’t know what. I found it out there on the road. I found it in fear, and oppression, violence, hate and control. It’s the infection. It brings out the worst in everyone, everywhere. It needs to stop. It needs to stop forever.

“And I can make that happen.”

Dina goes to speak and it just comes out a sob. Her chair squeals as she gets up. Ellie couldn’t get away if she tried, and in a second she finds herself smothered in Dina’s embrace.

* * *

“I’m really sorry I slapped you.”

“It’s fine.”

“And that other stuff I said.”

“I get it.”

They’re sitting in the living room, now. There a fresh flowers in a vase on the coffee table. None of the lights are on and it’s dimly lit through the curtains. It’s to Ellie’s liking.

After pulling herself together, Dina actually gave Ellie her blessing. She also asked why Ellie is so good at making her mad. Ellie introduced herself to Dale, kind of embarrassed. They moved to the living room just to take a fucking breather and talk about the small stuff for a while. News around Jackson, any new traders come through this month, there’s talk of starting a baseball league, does Maedlyn have a boyfriend yet. Ellie held her poker face on that one. Apparently she has a habit of dating men, but it never seems to go anywhere.

It doesn’t take that long for JJ to come up.

Dale hikes his eyebrows, attempting to be convincing. “Dina says she hopes the league does get going, ‘cause JJ’s gonna grow up to be a slugger.”

Ellie’s smile fades and she looks at the carpet.

“Oh, I…” Dale sounds sheepish.

“Babe,” Dina says, “you’ve done a great job today, but maybe on this one…”

“Oh. Yeah. Totally. Um.” Awkwardly, he presents his hand, and Ellie shakes it, confused. “I’m gonna head over to the market. We’re out of apples again.”

Once Dale closes the door, Ellie finds Dina’s eyes. She’d been scared to bring JJ up. She still is. She waits for Dina to help her but she’s just staring back.

She used to do that, a lot, actually. Ellie would be waiting for her to respond to a question or something and she just wouldn’t. She’d just keep gazing at her, little smile on the corner of her lips. It drove Ellie crazy.

“I don’t feel like you get to do that anymore.” Ellie points to the ring on her left hand.

“I know what I can get away with.”

Ellie doesn’t say anything in response. She hikes her eyebrows and gives Dina a look.

“What?” Dina says.

“Him?”

“Excuse me?” says Dina. “You better be careful.”

“I’m not…” she had had no intention of even going there. “I’m just… he’s a little goofy, is all.” She laughs but covers her eyes with her hands. Was she being an asshole?

“I know,” says Dina, “I love it.”

“Really?”

“Why do you ask that like you’re…” Dina stops. She half smiles. “Oh my god, you’re such an asshole.”

 _Oh, shit_. “Why?”

Dina scoffs. “You’re asking because you think _you’re_ not goofy and…”

“And what?”

“Well, why don’t you say it, Ellie?”

“I don’t know what—“

“Look, Ellie,” asserts Dina, “you _are_ goofy, first of all—“

“No, wait, that’s not—“

Dina screws up her lips and lowers her voice. “Attention, Space Spud, this is mission control…”

Ellie is nonplussed.

“—we have a mission critical situation in your pants—“

“Okay if JJ was in the room it obviously doesn’t count—“

“Oh, it counts,” says Dina. Ellie cannot let her face show what Dina’s smile is doing for her right now. “And you were ten times goofier with him than me.”

“I mean…” it was one of those arguments where she wanted to fight back but her smile was betraying her, “what about besides that?”

Dina goes to speak, and her smile fades. She leans back. “Well your fifty or sixty pet names for me come to mind, but I don’t think we need to get into that.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Ellie had been leaning over her knees. She relaxes back into the couch.

 _I am an asshole, aren’t I_?

“What do you want to ask me, Ellie?”

Ellie swallows. “What would I have to do to see him again?”

If Dina said _stay in Jackson_ , and meant it, Ellie would be dead to rights. Dina is not scowling, but she is not smiling. As Ellie watches, a certain chill comes up against the warmth in her eyes. She speaks.

“Never make him a promise you wouldn’t defend with your life.”

“Okay.” Ellie responds instantly, but she means it. Her throat feels dry. “Okay.”

Wordlessly, Dina stands up and leads Ellie up the stairs. When they walk through the baby blue door into JJ’s room, he’s stirring from his nap. Dina looks at Ellie. Her eyes say _get ready_ , but Ellie’s not sure what for. She’s nervous as hell, though.

Dina reaches down and picks him up.

“Oh, yeah. I know, I know. Time for wakey.”

He continues to fuss but as she bounces him against her chest he quiets down.

“We have a visitor, JJ. Do you know who it is?”

He doesn’t respond. He’s a little over two. Some babies talk at that age. God… she feels so out of the loop. What did she miss? She scratches the back of her head, embarrassed. Should she even be here?

Eventually, JJ finds his curiosity and climbs up to look over his mom’s shoulder, and he sees Ellie. He erupts into crying.

Horrified, Ellie does not know what to do. Dina is comforting him patiently, this is not a first for her. Ellie feels the wall bump into her back. Was this a mistake? Should she go? The image of his little face contorting like that is making her chest hurt in a way she’s not sure she can handle.

Dina sees her backing away and she shakes her head firmly. She beckons Ellie. Still scared, Ellie approaches. _He missed you_ , Dina mouths.

JJ’s head is buried in Dina’s shoulder, wet wailing muted by her shirt. Dina gestures for Ellie to do something. Ellie hesitates, then lays her good hand on his back, as gently as she can.

JJ lifts his head and looks at her, his eyes are still full of tears. Then all at once his face changes to total longing and he reaches his little arms out to her, and nothing on the planet could have kept Ellie from him. She scoops him into her arms and suddenly her vision is all blurry.

“Oh JJ, little guy, I missed you so much! I missed you so much! Oh my god, I can’t believe this. Oh, little spud, this makes everything worth it…”

JJ is talking too, but she can’t understand him at all. They go on for a little while. Ellie can’t see Dina, but she can feel her there, bearing witness.

JJ pulls himself together before Ellie does. He’s tugging on her shirt. Honestly, she’s not really used to two way communication with him. She leans back and looks at him. He says something.

“What?”

“We play!” he says. His eyes say this is very important.

“Oh, um,” she looks at Dina, who’s eyes say _why are you looking at me_ , _dummy_? “Yeah. Yep. We play, little spud.”

Then JJ does a big smile, and Ellie’s world is just about complete.

* * *

She carries him downstairs to his hand painted toy box—by Dale, apparently, big points for that—and they get to work while Dina silently goes off to get dinner started. He’s very fond of wooden blocks. His constructions are not as elaborate as Ellie’s though, which he stares at in fascinated confusion.

Dale gets back a little while later and snorts when he sees them. “Did you show her the train?”

JJ thinks for a second then smiles big again and claps his hands. With Ellie’s help he retrieves several wooden train cars that connect by magnets. It’s a great toy, Ellie thinks. They spend a long time connecting them, rolling it around, disconnecting them. Ellie makes sure to provide plenty of sound effects, which he loves. Other than that, there’s almost no talking anywhere in the house.

Dina calls them for dinner a little later. Ellie protests but Dina says she’s not going anywhere yet. At the table she has Ellie feed JJ, who just can’t seem to stop staring at her. It makes it pretty easy to feed him. Although he can almost feed himself at this point.

“Want to watch a movie after dinner?” Dina asks with a secretive smile.

Ellie frowns, mouth half full. “What, down at Georgie’s?”

“No, in there.” Dina gestures to the living room.

Ellie stares. “You do _not_ have movies in your _house_.”

Dina giggles and looks at Dale, who acts embarrassed. “Always bragging about it, jeez.” He looks at Ellie. “Trader Mackey comes to town a few months ago. Knows electronics. His cart is full of circuit boards and all that crap that most sensible people have no use for. People make fun of him until he starts churning out these incredible things.” He gestures. “Like our ‘DVD’ player. Trades for all kinds of things. He says when he finally found a settlement with permanent on-grid power he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Gonna die a rich man, I’ll tell you that. He’s not greedy though, he even took on an apprentice.”

Dina gives her a meaningful look. Ellie looks at Dale. “What, _you_?”

Dale nods with what she might describe as false modesty. Not as false as Maedlyn’s, though.

“Now who’s bragging, huh? Wow, Dina you really made out, didn’t you?”

Dina shrugs, smiling.

Doubt tugs at Ellie’s mind. “Dina… I still have to see Tommy later. It has to be today.”

She nods. “Well, that shouldn’t be a problem since it seems he’s become a bit of a night owl.”

Ellie picks something up in her voice. “How’s... he doing?”

The question puts a sour twist on Dina’s lips. “Not as good as you, believe it or not.”

 _Shit_. Ellie would cross that bridge when she came to it.

It felt weird to watch a movie after so long on the road. And in a living room. It was disorienting.

JJ laid in his mom’s lap and laid his head in Ellie’s. He fell asleep halfway through. Ellie spent more time looking at him than the screen.

She took another deep breath. The next tough pill was coming. And she wasn’t thinking of Tommy.

They had the audacity to offer her _ice cream_ after the end of the movie—they’re just showing off, now. Or trying to convince her to stay in Jackson, more likely. But she refused. She needed to see Tommy and she didn’t want him to be drunk when she got there.

Dina carried JJ up to bed, but she let Ellie tuck him in. He fussed but he was clearly tired. She was tracing his arm with her finger when he grabs it, hard. He looks at her as if to say _don’t go away again_. Ellie’s heart starts pumping and she feels like she might slip again, until Dina puts a hand on her back and her head against her shoulder.

Eventually JJ drifts off, and Ellie puts his hand by his side under the blanket.

“I’m terrified of when I have to say goodbye again,” Ellie says.

“I know, Ellie,” Dina replies. “I’m sorry, but that’s the burden of this path you’ve chosen.”

“I know.”

“Ellie, I want you to promise me something.” Dina turns Ellie to face her. She’s speaking quietly, but her eyes are deathly serious. “Go off, go on, then, if that’s what you really have to do. But don’t you once, for a single second lament what you had with me and JJ because it causes you pain to think about it.”

Ellie stares.

“And that goes for all the others, too.”

Strands of dark hair still stick out from her ponytail tie, by her temples, framing her beautiful face. She’s turning into a good wife, and a good mother. She narrows her eyes.

“Ellie.”

“JJ is so lucky to have you.”

Dina frowns in confusion. “Ellie I asked you to—“

Ellie moves around Dina and starts climbing down the stairs.

“Ellie? Ellie! _Ellie_!”

Dale is watching her climb down the stairs from over the banister with a toothbrush in his hand. Ellie stops at the bottom. Dina’s face is riven with concern, she looks at Dale for help but he’s stunned.

“Thank you for sharing your beautiful home for a night,” says Ellie, keeping her voice above the pain. “I’ll be back around to say goodbye before I go.”

“Ellie don’t leave!”

But she does.


	5. Tell Me You Want This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My longest chapter written yet. Fulfilling the genres of both Adventure and Drama. I'm proud of it. Enjoy.

Bobby Turner is smoking one of his cigarettes in the post-dusk light, leaning against a building at the corner of Thompson and Avery. Ellie never bothered with the stuff, but it’s days like today that make it look tempting. She passes him by. Whether or not he recognizes her, she’s in no mood to talk.

That is not how she wanted things to end at Dina’s house. Why did Dina have to ask her that? Why does she need to… _dig_ , like she does? This is tainted ground, here. Dig too deep, and you won’t like what you find.

Ellie presses her fingers into her eyes. _Damn it_ , _Dina_. It’s like she doesn’t think sometimes. Caring as she is, it’s like she doesn’t get how Ellie feels. Or maybe Ellie’s just too fucked up to understand anymore.

She puts that thought away, not for the first time.

Couldn’t Dina imagine how it might make Ellie feel when she touched her like that? In her perfect fucking home? With her perfect fucking husband? And perfect little JJ…

No, she had to get out. She would see them again. Soon enough.

 _God_ , _JJ_. Seeing him again like that meant everything.

She comes up on Tommy’s house on the southwest side of town, under the glow of one of Jackson’s street lamps. His is one of the old no-paint wood siding houses, more cabin like. Has a garage on the first floor and steps up to the front door. Tommy chose it since the back porch offers a good view not only of the butte outside town, but Taylor Mountain and Mt. Baird in the distance across the valley.

Ellie sighs. But did any of that make up for losing Maria?

She trudges up the steps and knocks on his door. A textured glass oval in the door lets her see someone approach, but not who it is.

Tommy flicks on the porchlight and opens the door. He catches himself when he sees her.

“Ellie…”

He doesn’t look haggard, but he does look tired. His good eye is hooded, bagged underneath.

“Don’t act, Tommy,” says Ellie, “I know Maria told you I was coming.”

He grins softly. “Well, that’s true. Don’t make it feel too different, though.” To Ellie’s surprise he steps over the threshold and pulls her into a one-armed hug, which she returns. When they break apart he glances down. He grabs her left hand and inspects it, meeting her eyes. “She really did that?”

Ellie pulls her hand back. His goes to the back of his head. “I’m sorry, Ellie, let’s at least sit you down.”

His house is pretty rustic. He’s got a mounted buck, which she knows he got from old Hilfiger’s, and a real bearskin rug. She hopes he traded for that too. Lots of rough-cut, varnished wood all around. There’s a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“Can I get you anything?” He wanders into the kitchen. There’s an unfinished glass by the sink but he doesn’t go for it. He fills a glass with water.

“No. I ate at Dina’s.” Ellie sits down at the table. The old fashioned bulbs in the chandelier offer dim lighting.

He half turns. “You did? Good.” Minding his leg, he joins her, sitting across the table. “How’s that?”

 _Ellie, don’t leave_!

“It was fine. Good, actually. She let me see JJ.”

“Oh, that’s great. Yeah, that’s one of the few places I make sure I get myself down to on the regular. Always insists I stay for dinner. Woman’s a hell of a cook!”

“Dale is very lucky.”

Tommy inclines his head as if he’s very serious. “That he is. Be honest with you, took me a bit to warm up to that one, though.”

Ellie smirks. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

He gives her a look. “Oh, you know… he’s nice and all. Not every young man needs to be out on patrol these days. He’s just a… bit goofy.”

Ellie can’t help but chuckle. “He offered me tea. Wearing an apron.”

That draws a laugh out of him that makes him turn away. “Yeah well, he takes good care of those two.”

“Yeah,” says Ellie. “I’m working my way up to being grateful.”

“That’s good… you are entitled to feel more than that.”

“And?”

He regards her, careful. “And what?”

“How are you doing, Tommy?”

He has a subtle grimace for that. He wipes his nose and looks at the floorboards. He purses his lips and regards her. “Not that bad, Ellie. All told, I’ll be honest.” He glances at his leg. “Honest, could be worse.”

“And you’re getting out? Seeing your people?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and she can finally see some of the anger coming through, “that’s a hell of a question, coming from you.”

“Yeah, I—“

“Where you been, Ellie?” His eyes say there’s no getting out of this one.

He hasn’t asked about Abby yet. Ellie knows it’s coming.

“I had a… lot I needed to get through. To walk off.” She wipes her nose. “Still do.”

“Ellie, I hear that but… Dina and JJ?”

Ellie’s face twitches as she suppresses a snarl. “Tommy…” She sighs. “Would it satisfy you if I said that I had to do it, and it’s one of my biggest regrets?” Her eyes ask for mercy.

He scoffs, scratching at his stubble. “Well, to that… truthfully, I’d have a hard time arguin’.” He takes a sip of water. “You had us all worried, girl,” he continues. “And I ain’t talking about fucking clickers, now. All that shit that happened… And Jesse, and everything. And you go off on your own?”

“I’m never alone, I have Joel with me.” She didn’t think. It just came out of her.

Tommy looks like he doesn’t know what to say. “Well, that’s some cold comfort, there.”

“Yeah, I’ve got that in spades lately.”

“Jesus, Ellie—“

“Ask.” He stops. “Ask about her.”

His face hardens and her heart sinks when she realizes that nothing has changed for him. Nothing at all.

His mouth forms an ugly line. “Tell me she’s dead.”

“I found her, but she’s not dead. Not as far as I know.”

His face isn’t changing and Ellie is starting to get nervous.

“Talk,” he says.

She tells him, not like she told Maria, but at parts of the story she can feel herself being pulled back onto that beach. That cold, gray sand.

“And she disappeared into the fog. And that’s the last time I’ll ever see her.”

Tommy’s face is carved from stone.

“And anything, that I might have fucking done to her was done ten times worse by those fucking monsters beforehand.”

“You could have taken her life.”

Ellie’s lips are trembling. “That kid doesn’t make it without her.”

Tommy’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Abruptly, he gets up.

Ellie gets up after him, reaching for him. “Tommy, wait—“

“Leave off,” he spits, back to her. His tone makes her retract her hand. He throws open the door to his back porch with a bang, leaning against the railing. He doesn’t bother to close the door.

Ellie’s in a place she hates. It didn’t happen often, but whenever she managed to get Joel well and truly pissed, this is how she would feel. Vulnerable. Helpless.

She follows him onto the porch. There’s a dusting of snow over the wood, as flakes gently fall from above. She closes the door and waits by it.

The moon’s out and you can see Mt. Baird clear as day. The gleaming white of its snowcap is beautiful. Other than that, there’s no light beyond the limits of Jackson. A line of floodlights facing outward, then darkness.

“Ellie, this is just about the last thing I have.”

She hates that he uses the word ‘this.’

“Not ten minutes ago we were talking about Dina and JJ.”

He shakes his head.

“Tommy, I’m sorry. I can’t undo it—“

 _If somehow, the good Lord gave me the chance, I’d do it all over again_.

She presses her fingers into her eyes. “I can’t undo it and I wouldn’t even if I could, but I am sorry. But Tommy—“ She gestures helplessly. He’s not looking at her. “Tommy I need to talk to you about why I didn’t, okay? Why it’s better this way.”

He’s not moving. Snow is collecting on his flannel shirt.

“Well, I suppose you’ll go on, then,” he says, gravelly.

Ellie breathes. She’s scared. This is more delicate than any tangle with infected.

“I thought I wanted Abby dead more than anything. You were there too, but if you’d even seen half the things I did in Seattle, you’d—“

“I’d what?” he snaps. “I did ‘em too.”

“I know… So you know I mean what I’m saying. I killed every person she cared about in that city. And I regret every fucking one—“ she grits her teeth against the image of the pregnant woman, blood running from her open throat. “—but do you know what I saw, when I had her throat in my hands, in that cold water?”

There’s a gust, flurries of snow moving across the porch. It’s getting cold.

“I saw Joel, Tommy. The last time we ever talked. I told him I’d start thinking about forgiving him.” She’s heaving now, cheeks wet and warm. She screams. “And I’ll never fucking get to do it!”

She pants, limbs shaking. Her lips are trembling. Her chest is pounding, but her sight is clear. “That’s why I hated Abby so much, because she took that from me. Just like Joel took her daddy from her. When I realized that, all the strength just went out of me. I couldn’t have killed her. I’d have killed myself if I did. I’d never have come back to Jackson.”

Tommy isn’t moving but she knows she’s reaching him. If she can just get a little further…

“Then I realized something. It didn’t feel good at the time, but it was. I didn’t need Joel to be there. Here’s there all the time, right here.” She taps her chest. “I didn’t need to see his face again. To forgive him. I just had to… I just had to let it go, and I did.”

Tommy’s head moves almost imperceptibly.

“And I’m alive to show for it,” she finishes.

“And what am I, then?” Tommy asks. Ellie’s brow knits. She can’t read his voice.

“You’re where I was, Tommy. And you won’t want to believe it, but that’s even worse than what comes after.”

He finally turns around. She can barely see his face in the moonlight, but there are tears on it. His bad eye doesn’t cry anymore. He walks right over and puts his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

“Girl, not a thing of this shoulda been on you. Shoulda never met Joel and me.”

“No, Tommy—“

“Quiet now!”

She pushes gently against his chest and he eases up, looking her in the eye.

“Damn if you aren’t a strong one.” He has a sad laugh. “You’re stronger than me, that’s for sure. I know you came to say that and you’ve said it.” He leans in. She can smell whiskey. “Don’t you forget where home is, you got that?”

Ellie nods.

He squeezes her shoulder. “Now get you on out of here. Your uncle’s got some thinking to do.”

He walks past her into the house.

“Tommy…” He doesn’t slow or turn. He walks into the bedroom.

Ellie lingers by the back door for a while. It doesn’t feel over. But Tommy sure acted like it was… She sighs.

Tommy had said it.

_That’s some cold comfort, there._

She closes his front door quiet, so he won’t hear.

* * *

Some of the other patrollers would fight over afternoon shifts so they could sleep in, but Clint never got it. That time just before dawn is one of his favorite parts of the day. Cold will wake you right up.

He adjusts his padded jacket and gloves. The snow was light last night, but the sun hasn’t come out to melt it away and it totally covers the street. Most of the shops are closed, except May’s, which he stops at for coffee. She always smiles when she sees him. She used to ask after his mom all the time. Now she asks about him.

Clouds are gone, sky’s a nice cobalt. He sips the black coffee from his thermos. It’s still piping hot.

Yep, that’s it, right there. The best part of the day.

He’s on North track today and he heads past the corral to meet Eric. Not his favorite patrol mate but a good shot.

The horses are being let out of the barn. They don’t look too pleased as they kick up snow as they go. He always feels bad for them, doesn’t really seem like they were made for the snow. Seems like they should have those big horse coats on earlier in the season. Macky laughed that off the one time he said it, though. He says horses stay warm just fine, as long as they’re moving. Must be something about their blood flow.

As he’s walking down the fence line toward the gate, he sees a figure leaning on the fence watching the horses. He frowns. The body shape is wrong… it’s not Eric. She turns, and Clint almost stops in his tracks when he sees Ellie. She grins.

“Mornin’ sunshine!”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Good to see you too. How’s my face looking? Better than yesterday? Don’t worry, I didn’t tell Dina you did it.”

He stalks on over to her and pulls up, crossing his arms and giving her a look.

“Where’s Eric.”

“I knocked him out and threw him in a dumpster.”

He doesn’t indulge her.

“I gave him a free day off so we can hang out.”

“Hang out? You think Patrol is—“ He stops. Her eyes are saying _are you stupid_? “Alright, Ellie, but if this is really gonna happen I want to know what this is about by the time we get back.”

“And if you’re meant to, you will.” She turns. James is coming along riding a horse and leading another.

“Here’s your legs, folks. Ellie.” He nods at her. “Why you looking so down, Clint? You could scarcely be in better hands.”

“Usually not high on my list of concerns,” says Clint. He takes Starbeam. He likes her, but damn that’s a dumb name.

“The fuck is this, James? Where’s Macky? I told him I wanted _my_ horse. Not this dummy.” Her voice changes to baby talk. “I’m just kidding Wendy, you’re the best.” She scratches Wendy’s jowls but Wendy side-eyes her like she understood.

“Haven’t seen Macky all morning. Probably over inspecting East stable.”

“Well he better be—“

“Sorry, Ellie, here we go.” Macky is coming up the track riding a red-coated bay. “Come on, now, Eddie.” Eddie snorts. “Dang horse better be worth it. He almost didn’t let me ride him.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re fat,” says Ellie.

“Well, that’s…” he scratches his chin, apparently lacking a comeback. He snorts. “Kids these days, got no respect, I tell ya.” He hauls himself down from Eddie.

“Hey, boy, how they treating you over there?” says Ellie. She strokes him with surprisingly tender hands.

Eddie tosses his head grumpily.

“I know, I should have visited more. Don’t worry, we’re together today.”

This whole show is really failing to amuse Clint, and he wants to get on the road. “We almost done here? Sun’s rising.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Ellie. She gives James a look. “Jeez, this guy’s all business.”

Clint crosses his arms again. “Yes, I am.”

A minute later, they’re saddled, and Ellie starts Eddie walking. Clint turns to James as they go. “You know she kicked my ass yesterday.”

James cuts one of those laughs you can’t hold back. “Best be polite, then,” he says as he starts walking Wendy back with Macky.

Ellie doesn’t say anything but when he looks she’s got a finger in the air, pointing vaguely in James’ direction.

They’re a mile out of the gate, almost around the butte, when Ellie slows down to a walk. She looks at him when he joins her. She gestures for him to come up alongside her.

“You weren’t too happy to see me today,” she says.

“Well… no. Look, I don’t have anything against you, Ellie. Actually have a fair amount of admiration for you.”

She looks almost flattered.

“But think of this from my perspective. Person I barely talked to and kinda figured I’d never see again plops herself down across from me at mess and starts giving me all these… _tests_.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much bullshit.”

He cocks his head at her. “You coulda taken the words out of my mouth.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but it’s for a good reason, all right? Same good reason I’m not telling you what it’s about yet. I can’t tell you. Not until I’m ready to put the proposition to you.”

“Are you a Firefly now, Ellie?”

She gives him a look he can’t piece out.

“No.”

“This kinda secrecy is strange to Jackson, that’s all. I didn’t mean any offense.”

“None taken. Where y’all been about lately?” She gestures to the land before them.

“About everywhere, in the last two weeks. In the last couple days…” He eyes her. “Ellie, we’re supposed to go up Moose Trail, but we’re not going to do that, are we?”

She shakes her head. “How about Teton?”

The ski resort? It’s fairly close, and probably the most scavenged site in the whole county. Still dangerous pockets, though.

“Gary and Jessica hit it last… Thursday?”

“Still patchy?”

“Yeah.”

She nods and turns Eddie to head West around the butte toward Teton. Clint sighs.

It’s a fine ride, he’s not denying that. He takes another swig of coffee. He offers the thermos to Ellie during a walking stretch and she takes it.

“Eugh! What!? Why do you guys like that stuff?”

Clint laughs. “Why did you want it, then?”

“I thought it was soup or something.”

“Give me that, then, if you’ve no appreciation.”

Sun’s still melting the snow during the day, so it’s just the snow from last night, starting to glisten. He’d have put face paint or his sunglasses on if he’d known where they were going, but this whole thing isn’t really very planned out. The plains are a landscape of gently rolling white hills. Rendezvous Peak is as noble as ever. Good snowpack for the Spring.

They come up on the outskirts of Teton. Snow’s a little heavier this way. The area is essentially comprised of long rows of what used to be luxury houses and cabins, separated by generous amounts of space. Clint would guess that just about every single one of them has been broken into by a Jacksonian at some point. Except for maybe some further up the hill.

They ride over the wide, flat areas that used to be golf courses, apparently. Further up the hill, toward the slopes, there are several lodges and hotel buildings. Tall, proud, and derelict, these days.

Clint breaks the silence. “So we’re looking for trouble.”

Ellie eyes him. “You are, making noise like that. Could be snipers, ambushes…”

“Unlikely. We patrol here frequently. And I don’t have to tell you that almost all travelers in this area come from either the North end of the valley, or from south on the highway. And they’re generally all headed directly to Jackson. What I would be more afraid of are infected.”

Ellie’s eyes move up the hill.

“You got it,” says Clint. Those tenacious bastards do surprisingly well in the cold. It’s not uncommon for them to find a dead deer that had been mobbed by infected. They have an unfortunate tendency to wander down out of the mountains and repopulate cleared areas.

“How’s the lodge?”

“Picked over. But that and the neighboring hotels are the only places we haven’t fully cleared.” He gives her a firm look. “For good reason.”

She nods. “Let’s just take a trot around the outskirts.”

They’re pretty quiet, hoofbeats dampened by the snow. Half the buildings they pass have broken windows, yawning black squares in the house. Some have burned down. Clint sees a couple houses that might still be sealed up the way, but scavenging is never his to priority. He’s more interested in Ellie.

She rides ahead of him, again. She appears easy, upper body relaxed, but her eyes are always moving. Catching on things he wouldn't look twice at, either. Some wind chimes. A shrubby bush. A horse post.

“Hey,” he whispers. She looks at him. “You’re more careful than I am.”

She cocks an eyebrow and looks forward.

“Might be the first one I’ve ever met,” he continues.

“That bad, or something?”

“Not in your line of work, I guess. May’s always telling me to relax.”

“Who taught you?”

“What? To be careful?”

“To survive.”

Clint chews on that for a second. “My sister.” _And that’s a story for another time_.

Whether she gets that or not, Ellie doesn’t reply.

“Joel taught you?”

She looks at him sharply. “Yeah.”

“Am I allowed to say that name?”

“Long as you’re smart about it.”

“No wonder you’re so good at it, then.”

She snorts. No smile though.

They hear it at the same time, the telltale moan of a runner. Ellie’s shoulder goes up and Clint squeezes the reins. Eddie makes an agitated movement.

They get off their horses wordlessly and creep to a nearby half fence. The sizable house on the other side of it is the source. Ellie turns to him. Her face looks different now. She puts a finger to her lips.

Alright, no words then.

They approach the house. There’s a busted window right in front of them, but without even looking Ellie slinks around the corner and is gone. She’s not waiting for him.

He sighs. More tests.

He peeks over the windowsill. He can see one in the room, slowly rocking back and forth. There’s a desk between them. He’s able to lift himself onto the sill and into the room almost silently.

A lot of people—patrollers even—won’t do anything but run from infected unless they have projectile weaponry. But time and again has stealth proved one of Clint’s best weapons. The gloves help a lot for that. He’s never understood other patrollers—like Ellie, he was disappointed to see—who don’t wear fucking gloves.

The door to the room is open but it’s dark. He pads over to the thing from behind, covers its mouth and plants his eight inch knife in its throat.

He grits his teeth as he saws out. Still hates that feeling. It’s still essentially a human throat. It does not feel good to cut. One of the cleanest ways to kill though.

He peers out the door. Most of the windows are boarded, light is scarce but he doesn’t need his flashlight. It will agitate some runners. He can see several overturned pieces of furniture and a huge rug that’s just about rotted away.

He hears some clicks, and stiffens.

Just one, he thinks. He creeps behind the couch, arriving just as another runner stumbles into the room. It’s unaware of him.

He hears a muffled thump in the distance. Ellie dropping a runner, probably. Is it a contest? Is he supposed to kill more than her?

No, fuck that, he is not doing anything stupid in here. Screw her secrets.

Runner B starts wandering his way, which is fortunate until another one comes behind it, pausing in the entry way. _Damn it_.

Fuck it, he can’t let himself get surrounded. When Runner B rounds the couch he grabs it and gives it the same treatment as A. Warm blood runs over his wrist but the gloves protect his hand. Some gets up his sleeve. _God damn it_.

He freezes. Runner C has gone silent. Did it notice something? It usually takes a second or so of total exposure for them to enter attack mode. Other than that they’re nearly mindless.

“Mm… yeh?” it babbles.

Clint shakes his head. He doesn’t like it when it sounds like they’re talking. Whatever, you don’t think about that stuff until all clear. Or never, that works too.

Sixty long seconds later and the damn thing hasn’t moved. He keeps hearing clicks. Screw it.

He throws a little piece of wood behind the runner. It gurgles in surprise and turns around. Before it makes any further decisions, though, it gets a knife in the throat.

Clint hears angry clicks and has about a second to get behind a wooden beam before the clicker appears in the doorway. Blood’s still dripping from his knife. His breathing is shallow. He’s almost wider than the beam, but this had been the plan. The clicker is making a lot of noise, but he should only be getting the empty room and the wooden beam. Maybe a sliver of Clint’s outline. He hopes that’s not enough.

The clicker resumes its horrid, jaunty walk past the beam. Clint doesn’t move, since that would be the worst giveaway. When it’s two steps away he turns, tossing the knife into the wood at the clicker’s feet. The clicker is allowed the dignity of an angry snarl before a fire axe is buried in its skull. It makes an awful sound when he yanks it out. He wipes the blade with a rotted piece of rug. That’s why you keep melee weapons in loose sheath.

To his horror he hears clapping and turns to see Ellie in the doorway. He looks at her in disbelief, standing up. “Well I guess we’re clear then,” he says loudly.

Ellie raises her eyebrows and gestures as if to say _guess so_.

“Alright, Ellie, how’d I do?”

“Good.”

“Yeah? How many did you run into?”

“Three. You?”

“Four, including the only clicker.”

“Ooh, tough guy.”

“I’m supposed to impress you here, right?”

“Please tell me you weren’t trying to outscore me.”

“Know what, Ellie? I’m calling you. If you had gotten four you would rub it in my face.”

She laughs. “Probably. Let’s get back to the horses.”

She goes to walk past him and he stops her. She looks at him. It’s dark but he can make out her features. There’s a glint in her eye from some light.

“Ellie, I know your super-secret mission is important and you can’t trust it to some scrub, but this shit is dangerous. Next time, I want to communicate before we go in.”

She nods, then walks away. Clint clenches his teeth. He’s not convinced.

* * *

The morning passes pretty fast on Ellie’s blood hunt. She seems to be satisfied slowly trotting up and down the lanes, since it takes maybe a few minutes at best for more infected to announce themselves. Clint’s starting to think Gary and Jessica did kind of a shit job last Thursday. Then again, Thomas said he thought they were dating…

Anyway, here’s how it goes. They’re just riding along, not talking. Ellie was fucking _whistling_ at one point. Then they’ll hear something. Then she’ll get off her horse without saying anything, and go on in without saying anything.

Clint is not scared. Well he is, he always is, and if Ellie were to say she isn’t she’d be full of shit. Here’s the thing; you don’t let fear run the show, but you pay it the respect it deserves. Like the words of an elder or something. Fear wants you alive, that’s what it’s for. Ellie’s acting like she’s deaf.

If blood is what you’re after, it’s a good haul. Clint’s right forearm starts getting tired from all the knifing. He keeps cleaning his gloves in the melting snow but the gore is adding up. It’s disgusting.

He normally doesn’t keep track, by the time noon rolls around, it’s nineteen runners, six stalkers, and five clickers. Neither of them has discharged a single firearm, a point Clint would take with pride if this whole thing weren’t such a shit show. There was one tense moment where had to open a fridge door to conceal himself from a runner. He almost blew chunks from the smell.

They’re almost at the base of the mountain, sitting on horseback while the horses munch some grass poking up from the snow. It’s a damn nice day, but Ellie doesn’t seem to notice. She’s squinting down at all the houses they’ve passed through, looking dissatisfied.

“You know, Ellie, I’m starting to get hungry.”

She smirks at him. “Hope you brought a snack.”

That being more or less what he expected, he produces some from his bag. Bunch of nuts, an apple, a hunk of bread. He likes himself a waffle sandwich, with fries, if it’s on offer, but he sticks to healthy stuff outside town. Ellie’s not moving. He wonders what she’s thinking.

“Aren’t you?”

She considers him briefly and shakes her head. He doesn’t like that.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out the real treat; some of Olmwood’s venison jerky. He claims he cures it with soy sauce, which if such a thing exists in Jackson, Clint has never laid eyes on it. Whatever it is, though, it’s damn good. He offers some to Ellie.

She looks, but doesn’t take any. Clint doesn’t like that either. He bumps her arm with it. She gives him a disapproving look, but takes some. They chew for a minute in silence.

“That shit ain’t soy sauce,” she says.

“Have you ever had any?” he asks.

“Yeah. In New York.”

“Bull shit.”

She takes another bite and gives him a knowing look.

“Sun gonna set on us out here, Ellie? Cause this is a shit date.”

She huffs. “We can go home after.”

_After what?_

“Clint,” she says. She looks at him. “Tell me you want this.”

It’s a pretty outrageous question. After a couple of seconds of searching he knows she’s not going to elaborate. So he thinks about it.

You can’t see Jackson from here. If it was night you could see the light on the surrounding hills. Morning’s bread and pastries would be going on sale at May’s. Rush at mess, Thursday, Raul is probably tossing stir fry right now, not that he’d get any. His mom would be hanging up laundry. Would be.

“Yeah,” he says with an expulsion of air. He looks at her.

She doesn’t move.

He looks her dead in the eye. “Yeah.”

She nods her head toward the lodges. “Let’s ride.”

Clint sighs, but he did figure. “So be it. What’s our prize?”

She looks a question at him.

“What are we looking for that will finally satisfy you?”

“Not sure, but I bet we’ll know it when we see it.”

Without further ado she nudges Eddie, who—reluctantly—starts trotting down the hill toward the central complex.

Clint’s hackles rise when they start passing through the outer buildings. It’s damn quiet out here. He meant what he said about bandits, but if there were any posses in the area, this would be a good place to hole up, once you cleared the infected. He and Ellie don’t have to say anything, their eyes are scouring the windows around them.

She leads them to a building with a sign in front that says Alpenhof Lodge. It’s a smaller lodge, three storeys, rustic and old-fashioned looking. The first floor is barricaded to shit.

“Let’s tie up,” Ellie whispers. Clint’s mouth is a flat line.

After talking it over, the roof is probably the best way in. They’re able to climb up the side, with a fair amount of effort. A fire ladder helps them for the last storey.

There’s a decent view up top. The mountains jump up right in front of them, not even a mile from the lodge. Sky’s still clear. He can see all the way to where the valley opens up, miles to the north, and south to the pass and highway. The bed of the valley is a tranquil snowscape, dotted with the green of trees and patches of melted snow. Snake River cuts a dark blue line through it, far too warm to freeze yet.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Ellie says. She’s walking over to the lone door on the rooftop. It’s locked, of course. Her eyes start wandering around, looking for another way in. What a damn day this is turning out to be.

The roof is covered with snow, but there are six large, raised boxes jutting about four inches out from the slush. Ellie is walking across them now. It clicks.

“Ellie, don’t walk on there—“ Then it happens.

The concealed skylight shatters and Ellie drops like a rock into the building. “Shit!”

He runs over, leaning over the side. The room is a black void, a single square of light revealing Ellie. She’s alright. He doesn’t even get time for a sigh of relief before the infected start going off. Ellie whips out her magnum. “Motherfucker!”

Two deafening blasts and Ellie’s eyes go wide and she turns and bolts. Three, then four and five runners pass through the light after her. He can hear clicks.

“God _damn_ it!” Clint yells. He yanks on his mask and hurls himself over the edge.

He lands in the glass with a crunch and turns on his flashlight. Brief glances tell him this used to be a banquet room. The only obstacles are circular tables. The runners aren’t close, but his entrance gets the attention of two clickers barely ten feet away. The turn as one and start flailing at him.

His shotgun is in his hand then against his shoulder. A boom and a shock to his shoulder leave the closer one without a head. It flails to the ground. Another pump and pull and the other one meets the same fate. They both die within three feet of him.

“Jesus Christ.”

The runners chasing Ellie are behind a wall now, but he can hear them. He hears her yelling and then several more shots. He sees an open doorway on the side of the room its coming from. He’s about to move there when he hears new runners. He turns to see three of them pour in from the other side of the room, with more behind.

“Jesus _Christ!_ ”

He sprints to the open door. It’s been ripped off its hinges. There’s an over turned couch and not nearly enough time to move it. It’s pitch black in here, the only light is coming from his chest. He runs down a hallway full of doors he doesn’t even have time to check. The runners are not far behind him. He sees an open door and runs through it.

It’s the stairwell. The way up is barricaded, the way down is open. He throws the shotgun up there, runs, jumps, and grabs the metal hand rail up past the barricaded section, climbing onto the stairs.

The runners spot him when they arrive, but the barricade is between them.

He offs the first one clambering over after he finds his shotgun—Jesus fuck his visibility is shit—then he throws it back down because he knows he only has one more shell. He pulls out his nine millimeter. Headshots or death.

Their thrashing limbs bring them over the piled up furniture in ones and twos. Forehead. Left eye. Carotid. He has seven left in the clip. Eyebrow. Temple. Cheek, then forehead. There’s one left, he can hear it. He puts the gun away and pulls out his axe because he wants to. He splits her head down to the nose.

His breaths are coming in heavy bursts through his nose. He hears more running and he goes quiet. The running stops outside the stairs, but they’re still activated. They heard the shots. They’re looking for him. He turns off his light and crouches behind the barrier.

They wander around out there, bumping into walls. One wanders in and Clint tenses up. After a few second it stumbles and falls down the stairs. It goes quiet. He could almost laugh. It knocked itself out.

For the first time he thinks about what might be behind him. He thinks it over and turns his light back on. He’s totally blind without it. A brief glance before turning it off reveals a rotted skeleton and a door; the one on the roof that had been locked.

Moving very slowly through the dark, he eventually finds the handle. It opens. He lets a bitter laugh. He props it open to let some light in the well. He listens. The runners are still down there, quieter now.

He’s obviously not leaving without Ellie, and holsters his weapons and climbs back down the rail to the lower landing. He can hear one runner close to the door, but not the other. He grits his teeth. He steps out and turns on his light.

The runner is facing away from him. It goes alert from the light, but there’s no target. It gets a knife in its throat.

He hears the other and turns in time to see it running at him. He has to dodge twice, then he plants his axe in its collar bone. It wails, but it’s stuck on his weapon. Clint winces. He likes clean kills. He boots the thing and when it comes back at him, he catches it in the skull.

It’s quiet.

“This is a fucking nightmare,” he mutters.

He’s damn well betting Ellie went down the stairs. The well is empty, except for the unconscious runner. Feels even worse cutting its throat, but it had to be done. The door to the first floor is _fucking welded shut_. He takes the second floor.

Long hallway, more doors to rooms on both sides. Country wallpaper peeling in rotting spirals and littering the ground. He’s greeted by the bodies of five newly dead runners, but no sign of Ellie. He follows the bodies.

The doors to the rooms are rough-cut, varnished wood that was probably charming at some point. Ellie could be in any one of them but he is not fucking opening every door. He takes a breath, and taps the wall three times. The kind of soft sound infected will overlook, but human ears pick up immediately. Common patrol tactic.

No response.

He advances down the hallway and does it again to no effect. He holds his breath turning the corner, but it’s just a long empty hallway, more doors. He can hear more infected, but it sounds like another floor.

He needs to meet up with Ellie, _now_.

There’s a gaping hole where a door to a room should be. Clint inspects it.

A big fucking bomb must have gone off at some point. Half the room is destroyed, leaving a massive hole to the first floor. He can see infected from here. There are spores. Light from the first floor windows actually half-illumines the room. He turns off his light. He gives it one more try, tapping the wall three times.

No response.

He grits his teeth. Either Ellie is in too dangerous a position, or incapacitated. He peers over the edge. It’s one of those edge-of-hell miracles. There’s a mattress down there. He drops on it.

No infected react, but he’s instantly on high alert. He crouches next to a nearby counter. A furtive movement catches his eye and he turns to see Ellie getting his attention. She looks surprisingly unshaken. He breaths a quick sigh of relief.

He fumes, breathing out hard through his nose. _Why the fuck didn’t you respond_?

She gestures over her counter and Clint looks. The wide open floor is actually visible due to light peeking in from over the tops of the barricaded windows. There are walls, columns, furniture… it’s a mess. And several infected that he can see. But, most importantly, in front of the front double doors, there’s a god damn bloater.

 _Tss_.

He looks over when she makes the sound. She’s crafted an unlit Molotov. That’s actually fucking perfect—

She throws it at him.

He catches it, too stunned to think for a second. He looks at her. She nods.

He’s gonna fucking deck her when they get out of here.

He secures it on a belt loop and they get to work. A runner is stumbling toward him. He lopes up and as soon as it jerks in recognition, he grabs it about the jaw and back of head and snaps its neck. Not his favorite way to kill, but quick and stealthy from the front. He hears Ellie’s knife break skin.

A clicker perks up. Damn it.

There’s an open doorway in one of the divider walls in front of him. He approaches it just as a clicker walks out. It jerks in surprise. Clint suppresses a strong instinct never to approach a clicker from the front and lunges in, driving his knife under its jaw and into its brain, terminating its angry shriek.

He hears reactions from runners around the floor, followed by a wet grunt from the bloater. Fuck. Heavy footfalls tell him it has started moving.

His brain catches his attention and he reloads his nine millimeter. He creeps through the doorway to a short hallway with another counter. A runner stumbles around the corner in front of him. It’s too far to knife and there’s no time. He stands up and shoots it in the head.

Almost as if on cue, Ellie discharges two shots.

“Here we go, Clint!”

There are shrieks from several sides, the worst possible result. Clint can’t see anything in front of him and runs that way. It’s an open section, near the front, but he can’t see the bloater anymore. He finds a corner, and turns to see two runners sprinting at him from where he’d come. He headshots the first one and puts three in the second one’s chest. Two more come from the right, followed by an ambling clicker.

He puts another three in the first one’s chest, then misses a shot. Instantly, he changes strategies and swings his gun down as it approaches. Its reeking forearm impacts his face but does little damage other than skewing his glasses, his pistol butt crunches its forehead and it goes down. The clicker is almost on him.

He rolls to the side and the clicker’s head swivels, it keeps coming. He goes to get up and trips over a piece of wood.

 _Fuck_!

As he’s stumbling backward, the clicker is almost on him. He misses the first desperate shot, puts the second in the clicker’s faceplates, stunning it. Then his gun starts clicking.

He throws it behind the clicker. It jerks, half turning. Then it starts clicking and it’s obviously going to make him. It shrieks at him and he boots it in the fucking face. While it’s on its back he gets up, and when it tries to he decapitates it with his axe.

The bloater roars on the other side of the building.

“Fuck!” It’s Ellie. She sounds scared.

Clint sprints down the central corridor, boots pounding the floorboards. It will draw any remaining infected, but Ellie needs a distraction more than him.

He arrives to see Ellie rolling over a counter as the raging bloater swings, taking the fucking corner off the wood. It’s momentarily distracted by Clint’s arrival. She’s trying to creep away. It makes her somehow and grabs one of its disgusting pods, hucking it at her. She rolls over another counter as it bursts.

“Clint! Shit!”

He’s down to one fucking shotgun shell. He steps forward, shouldering it. The bloater turns toward him and snarls, stomping forward. He grips and pulls. The shell takes out its knee.

It falls forward and catches itself. It stumbles, confused about its leg no longer working. It’s time enough for Clint to light the Molotov. It smashes against the thing’s chest.

It starts roaring with terrifying rage. It somehow gets onto its good leg, supporting itself with the wall, advancing on Clint.

“ _Ellie-e_ ,” he says in an escalating tone.

More magnum blasts. She catches it in the side, shoulder, then back of the head. It stumbles to the ground. It growls, rising, then it turns into a sort of spasm. It goes limp, and then it’s just the crackling of burning fungus.

Clint is panting, mask half fogged over. He looks around, but it’s quiet. Any remaining infected would be on them already. They cleared the fucking building.

“Holy shit, Clint!” Ellie sounds excited. Clint is not interested.

He turns around and walks straight to the front door, thinking of nothing but fresh air. He starts ripping down the furniture, taking out anger on it. He finally lifts one end of the couch on bottom and hurls it away. There are double doors with large glass panes. He doesn’t even try the handle. He smashes the glass with the back end of his axe, stepping out into the light.

The horses are startled and nervous as he walks out under the covered entranceway. He rips his mask off, still panting.

“Can you say—“ Ellie rips her mask off, approaching from behind, “—we fucking did it?” She has far too big a smile.

His jaw is clenched. “We didn’t get shit in there.”

“Oh we got it,” she says, smacking his arm. “We got all of it, damn.”

His breathing is approaching normal.

“Come on Clint. Alright, fine, that was fucked. But we did it! It’s over.”

He fights the impulse as long as he can. Then he starts laughing. “You are a crazy fucking bitch, Ellie.”

She smiles big. “Damn straight.”

She walks toward the front of the covered walkway and starts checking herself and her gear. He does the same.

“Did you even think what would happen if I didn’t catch that thing?” Clint asks her.

“It wasn’t lit.”

“It wasn’t lit—Jesus, you’re about to be lit up by my _fist_.”

“Alright, we’re actually done, okay? A+.”

“A what?”

She chuckles. “It’s what they said before the outbreak when you did a good job.”

“Tell me that was at least in your top ten of shit shows.”

She looks at him then gives that some honest thought.

“Jesus, Ellie.”

“I mean it’s _close_ , I don’t know.”

“You’re pretty damn foolish for a smart girl.” He finishes velcroing his glove back up. “I mean I thought you might have the sense to know a skylight when you—“

The silence carries on for a second. Ellie stops fixing her gear. His back is turned to her, but he can tell she’s looking at him.

“I mean it’s not like I could see through the—“ she starts.

He turns and advances on her. She reaches, but he grabs her by the shirt and shoves her forcefully into the pillar supporting the walkway cover.

Her face has changed again. Eyes cold as glass. There’s something sharp poking his belly.

“Easy,” she says.

His breath is coming in bursts through his nose. “Except you did know that was a skylight.” Eddie whinnies nervously, tugging at his tie. “And that entire fucking thing was on purpose.”

She’s wearing that stupid fucking smile again. As if he’s not five seconds from killing her.

“You got me.” She says. She searches his face. “You’re pretty sharp yourself.”

“You tell me now,” he spits. He shoves her against the pillar again. Her knife breaks skin.

“You wanna fucking let me go?” she asks him. There’s subtle danger in her tone.

“I don’t know, you wanna fucking gut me, or what? I mean, you almost got me killed in there.”

“You said you wanted it.” Her eyes are level. “I asked.”

He can’t believe it. She’s actually fucking serious.

He lets her go and backs away five feet, crossing his arms. He can feel a drop of blood on his lower abdomen.

She retracts her switch blade and puts it away casually. Her eyes on him, she for some reason starts rolling up her right sleeve. She displays her tattoo.

“So you are a Firefly?”

She shakes her head.

“Explain.”

“I am. Under this tattoo—“

“Is a chemical burn, yeah.”

“I did that to myself.” Her eyes are very lucid. She’s being real. He’s still feeling the rage, but she has his attention. “I did it to hide what’s underneath. A bite mark.”

His face twitches. “From an infected person?”

She nods. She’s waiting for him to deny it, but he wants to do anything but indulge her right now. He works his lips. “Prove it.”

She beckons him. He approaches. She puts his hand over the scarring. He searches with his thumb. It’s a rippled mess, it covers half her forearm. Then he notices. A series of ridged bumps, in the shape of a human mouth. She pulls her arm back.

“Why should I believe this?” he asks her.

Her brow is wrinkling now. This is touching on something for her. She looks to the side and her eyes are far away. It takes her a minute.

“My parents died before I knew them and woman named Marlene took care of me back in Boston. One night when I was young and fucking stupid, me and a friend snuck into a condemned mall. We got attacked. We both got bit. We decided to wait it out. She turned…” Her voice quavers. Her mouth moves again but she doesn’t annunciate, he has to read her lips. _And I’m still waiting_.

“When Marlene found out, she said she needed to get me to HQ. That they might be able to use me. To make a cure.” She looks into his eyes.

He’s not ready to respond. He gestures for her to continue.

“She made Joel smuggle me out of Boston. He didn’t want to. Things kept going wrong… A lot of shit happened, it’s not important. Eventually he and I get to Salt Lake City. Saint Mary’s Hospital, it was their research base. I wasn’t even conscious… I found out a lot of it later, don’t ask why.

“There was a doctor there. Andersen. He was going to be able to do it. Or thought he could. But he had to remove the infection.” She gestures to the side of her head.

 _Wait, remove the infection_? _Holy shit, that would_ —

“Joel didn’t like that.” She winces and looks to the horizon. “He killed a lot of people and got me out of there. He killed Andersen too. I went back years later and found a recording saying that he had been the only one who could have done it. There was no point anymore, even if they had an immune person.” She finally looks at him again. She looked a lot older all of a sudden. She takes a deep breath. “But that was almost six years ago.”

Somehow, Clint is not angry anymore. His arms feel heavy. He uncrosses them. “You think there might be someone else.”

“If there’s any organization left that could find them, it would be the Fireflies. So I’m going. I would go alone… but Maria made a ‘demand.’” She does air quotes. She shakes her head. “Honestly—“

“I’m in.”

“No, you aren’t,” she says, eyes closed, shaking her head. She looks at him. “Clint you don’t know—“

He moves toward her until their faces are close. She’s defensive at first, but she meets his eyes. He pushes how that makes him feel to the back of his mind. She can’t talk her way out of the meaning in his eyes. He doesn’t even have to say it, but he does.

“I’m in.”


	6. Tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is two days in a row I'm posting. I don't intend to post every day, but I do have a long backlog. I want to post consistently to grow a readership. If there are any authors out there with experience in posting backlogs, I'll take any advice.
> 
> Enjoy.

_Wow. Long day._

_After one of the most successful patrols in Jackson history, Clint took me down to the saloon. I thought it would take a while for him to forgive me. I was really hoping he wouldn’t put two and two together. He was right, I did almost get him killed. But his attitude changed like instantly after that conversation. He even treated for dinner. Holy shit, he had a lot of notes. He really doesn’t spend much money. Guess he doesn’t have anything to spend it on…_

_Of course, I got mobbed by familiar faces. Everyone and their mother asking me how I’ve been, yada yada. Not my favorite, but I can’t complain. It felt good to be welcome. Good eats too. I stole Clint’s wallet at one point and bought some top shelf. Damn, even Seth seemed glad to see me. Asshole._

_I don’t know about Clint. I mean, I like him. And I guess I like him for the mission. From the moment in the caf when he told me he didn’t need much. He could survive out there. Solid. Responsible. Maybe a little too all-business. He’s good for the work, though._

_Fuck, I really almost knifed him. He should have known better. After what happened at the Court. ~~Thought he could see what I am now~~_

_No, no one carries the blame for that stuff but me._

_I just don’t know about bringing anyone with me. Maria asked… I can’t believe that shit she said… about my humanity. It really ~~hurts~~ sucks cause we never talked a ton and I know she wouldn’t have said that to me unless she thought I really needed to hear it._

_~~I really am fucked up.~~ _

_I could trust Clint in the field. As long as he doesn’t get weird. I’m thinking of Jesse now. I’m not writing about that anymore._

_Fuck. This is supposed to, like, help me straighten out my thoughts but it’s not working._

_I don’t want to leave Jackson. But what does what I want matter? I **want** to kick Dale’s ass to the curb and pull Dina in for a kiss in front of the sunset._

_Fuck, now I’m thinking about Maedlyn. It was only one night, but, man she said some crazy shit. Still going through my head. A lot of that night still going through my head… I can’t believe she tried to act like I swept her off her feet or something. She knew what she was doing the whole time._

_Shit! She was at the saloon too! I just remembered! She eyed me from across the bar where she was flirting with some **guy**. I’m like yeah, okay. I tried to go over and talk to her and she gave me the slip! Fucking trouble, I tell you._

_Problem is? She deserves a hell of a lot better than me, whatever she says. ~~I’m trash~~_

_She did say she would be cross if I didn’t come back. Damn. I have to say goodbye to her too. I hate goodbyes._

_~~I never had to say goodbye to Joel.~~ _

_I never got to say goodbye to Joel._

_Joel, I miss you so much. Can you read this? Can you still see me? I like to think so._

_Know what the best part of forgiving you was? I stopped hating myself for holding it against you in the first place. I didn’t realize how angry I was with myself. When we came to Jackson, we had nothing but each other, and I turned my back on you before we even set foot in town. That’s done, though._

_[Tear smudges.]_

_I feel this piece of you I’m still carrying, it’s like there’s a piece of you that got left in my heart when we were ripped apart. It’s kinda sad, but I treasure it. Does that mean there’s a piece of me with you, too? I hope so. ~~Feels like more than a piece.~~_

_Okay, I need to stop. Rule number one of journaling: never assume someone won’t find and read it._

_I’m back in my old bachelor shack. It’s actually great. Almost the same, except everything is covered in dust. The lava lamp still works! I’d have come here the first night if I wasn’t worried about Maria picking me up. Except I managed to find somewhere even better to stay. Also except, Maria fucking picked me up anyway. God, I couldn’t believe that shit. Almost broke down when I saw the empty guitar stand though._

_Mourning feels better in Jackson. It’s true. But I can’t stay still, either. Now that I’ve found this thing I’m clinging to it. It’s pulling me in, like the cure is a black hole and I’m a piece of space debris. Yeah, I like that. You’ve got to keep finding something to fight for._

_Marlene knew what she was fighting for. She fought like hell. Then she went and fought Joel. Nothing got in his way and lived to tell. It’s pretty messed up, really. I always did admire that though._

_And now it’s me._

* * *

Ellie probably got about four hours of sleep when there’s a pounding at her door. She’s pissed at first, but it keeps coming. She rubs her eye hard, pulling her pants on. It keeps coming and Ellie’s starting to worry it’s a real emergency. She throws open the door to see Maria, looking scared.

“Tommy’s gone.”

Ellie’s stomach twists. She steps back and holds open the door. Maria looks confused. She’s distracted. It’s scaring the shit out of Ellie. “Maria get in here so I can get my gear!”

Maria complies. She paces the whole time Ellie is grabbing her stuff.

“How long has he been gone?” Ellie asks. “When’s the last someone saw him?”

“Edmond saw him last night, heading home. He won’t have slept. He’s probably hours out already.”

Ellie looks at the clock for the first time. It’s 4:15. Still dead dark outside. “Jesus, how did you find out?”

“I, uh…” Maria shakes herself. “I woke up and I had a bad feeling. I went to his place and he… wasn’t there.”

“Did he leave a note?”

Maria shakes her head. It’s a lie. As she’s pacing, Ellie sees a piece of paper sticking out of her pocket. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

It’s dead quiet. Old Lucas starts barking when they pass the Mayhew’s. Maria hushes him and he listens, just like everyone else in Jackson. It’s a bitter cold morning. Moths are flitting about the street lamps.

“Who did you call?”

“Dinas. He put together his own posse. He’ll lead. I need you with him, though. You know Tommy. Clint will meet you at the gate.”

Ellie stops. “What? Clint? Why?”

Maria looks confounded. “What do you mean why, girl? He’s bound to travel across the country with you and he can’t help with this?” _How does she already know that?_ Ellie thinks. _Jesus_. Maria scowls in frustration. “Move your legs!”

Ellie’s kinda pissed but she can’t argue. It just… doesn’t seem like Clint’s business. Whatever, he could be helpful.

When they arrive there’s already a sizable group of men on horse. Ellie’s stomach twists again. This is real. _Fuck. Tommy, what are you thinking?_

But she knows.

Eddie is already there. She turns and Clint is walking up the lane by West Gate. He looks a little disoriented. He didn’t sleep much either. As soon as he’s close she faces him.

“This isn’t something you have to deal with.”

He looks at her, frowns, and climbs on Starbeam.

“Listen up!” Maria starts. Ellie is relieved to hear her normal command voice. “Dinas is group leader, you all know ‘im. Dinas, listen to Ellie, she knows Tommy. Man is a damned fool, but a determined fool. He’s not gonna be easy to find and he’s not gonna come easily. Talk him down, do not attempt to use force. Don’t know which direction he went but he left hours ago. He took a lot of horses, whatever that means.”

She’s met with silence, all eyes on her. There’s not a soul here who is not taking this damn seriously.

“And that’s it, get gone!”

The gates open on cue and Dinas starts shouting riding orders.

The moon’s out, which helps a bit. Other than that it’s just their flashlights. A couple of the guys have the larger flood lamps affixed to their saddles. The snow from yesterday is all melted. It’s all brown, flattened grass.

Can be dangerous riding at night, but they know the right tracks. And so did Tommy. From the looks of his tracks he took about ten horses. _What the hell are you doing, Tommy?_

They find out a couple miles out.

“Son of a bitch!” spits Dinas as they pull up.

At this point there’s a different set of horse tracks going in every direction. Tommy had brought them along to frustrate tracking. Not to mention those horses all need to be rode down and brought back to stable. Ellie curses Tommy in her head.

“What’s the plan, Dinas? We split up?” says Hooker.

“Fuckin’ have to, I guess.” Dinas looks at Ellie. “Girl, you any help here?”

Ellie can only half hear him. She’s scanning the horizon, thinking about which way Tommy would have chosen to go. He’s probably headed for California, but first he needs to get away. Not straight north or south out of the valley, that would be obvious. Riding through the hills is tough, but on a good horse… his number one concern need be getting tracked, though.

“We split up,” says Ellie. “Clint, on me.” She nudges Eddie into a full gallop after a set of tracks, not looking back. She can hear Dinas barking more orders, and Starbeam’s hoofbeats behind her.

The sky is turning color when they reach Quarry. Tommy would have no use for the quarry itself, but the area itself is an endless carpet of limestone. Damn hard to track a horse over that. She has them slow to a walk. She sees Clint looking at the stone underhoof and nodding his head. Seems to get it. He catches her eye.

“Tommy ain’t gonna be easy to bring in, is he?”

Her lip twists. “You think?”

Clint sniffs. “You don’t want me here, do you?”

“Later,” she says. She’s got about no patience for that right now.

He’s silent for a while.

“Ellie I’m looking to you here. What’s the word?”

Ellie offers an exasperated sigh. She drops her elbow on the saddle and her face in her hand.

Tommy won’t have ridden through a bush or any such thing. Shoed horse hooves will kick down an occasional scuff or chunk of broken rock, but she hasn’t seen shit since his tracks hit the limestone. He probably walked the fucking horse. He had enough of a lead. He could leave Quarry in any direction and it would take them half a day to circle it. By then he could have found a stream or something to further frustrate their progress. “Tommy’s a slick bastard, that’s the word.”

Clint doesn’t respond and she doesn’t feel like looking at his face. It’s really starting to look like Tommy might get away. And if he does, she will never see him again.

_Damn it, Tommy. Why didn’t you listen to me?_

The ice is starting to come back and it’s just about the last thing she needs at the—

A gunshot sounds in the distance. Both snap their heads in the direction it came from. Probably less than a mile away, into the trees. More follow it.

“Move,” says Ellie.

They ride a short distance into the trees, but when the shots reach a certain volume, she has them unhorse. Tommy is not shooting at squirrels. Eddie is real antsy. Clint is doing a good job of listening.

They’re crouching behind a bush. Ellie can see a structure in the distance.

“Ellie, this is fucked up,” says Clint. She looks at him like _why are you talking_? His grip on his pistol is firm, there’s a vein showing in his forearm. “But I’m ready for this, okay? Whatever it is. You can count on me. That’s all.”

Her eyes remain on him for a second and she nods. The structure is a shack on top of a steep slope. Below it there’s more cracked, unreclaimed concrete, some abandoned vehicles. It’s an old water station or something, but not part of the hydroelectric system. Wrong side of the valley.

There’s a loud crack and a flash from the shack.

“Son of a bitch, you’re gonna _die_!” It didn’t come from the shack and it’s not Tommy.

“Tommy’s in the shack,” says Ellie. “Move.”

She feels his hand on her arm. “We could sneak up behind the others, then.”

“No.” Ellie is not thinking, she just needs to get to Tommy.

They start creeping toward the top of the hill. They’re already higher than the concrete basin where the others seem to be taking cover behind the vehicles. They’re moving, though.

They come up behind one of them. Leather trench, ratty and bullet-holed. Bandit. He’s sneaking the same way they are. Ellie cuts his throat in one smooth motion. He reeks.

There’s good bush cover and the soil is soft here. They don’t encounter anyone else and they’re closing in on the shack. A voice sounds from the concrete below.

“Edison! You seen Gage lately? I saw him goin’—“

“Shut it.”

“I think there’s more of ‘em—“

“Then shut your damn mouth!”

All the windows in the shack are busted. The door’s off. Been that way a long time. Ellie can hear labored breathing. Ellie stands up in the door way.

Tommy’s leaned up against the wall, face next to a window. He’s got a death grip on his rifle. She can see blood. Ellie taps lightly on the door frame.

Tommy wheels on her, raising his gun. The instant he meets her eyes he drops it and the strength seems to go out of him. He slumps down against the wall. There’s blood on his shirt. She’s on him in a second.

“Damn it, girl,” he says. His voice sounds tired. “The hell are you doing?”

“That’s a hell of a question, coming from you,” she says. She’s looking for the source of the blood, moving his coat around. He lets her. She finally finds it. Bullet hole in his lower chest, from a rifle. He coughs, and some blood comes out. Something moves in her chest again.

“Ellie, this isn’t over.” Clint is tense, but controlled. “They’re gonna start coming.”

Ellie squeezes the tears out of her eyes. She needs to see. “What are you here for, then?”

If Clint has a response, he bites it back. “Shit,” he mutters, moving to one of the windows. He moves, and she hears his rifle discharge. There’s another distant shout.

“Shit, that’s Jack down!”

Tommy’s eyes are scared. “Ellie, you need to get the hell out of here. Should never have come.”

“No,” she says, angry. “No, you shut your damn mouth this time, Tommy, you know what this is.” She puts her hand on his face, stroking his cheekbone. “Maria’s gonna be mad as hell at me, you realize that?”

“Ellie,” says Clint, “this is about to get real sticky in a minute.” He moves again then curses. There’s another crack and some of the plaster breaks off the wall behind her. “Son of a bitch,” Clint spits.

Tommy’s eyes keep drifting away. She shakes him. “Tommy, you need to fucking listen to me, okay? Do you remember the other day? In your house? What I told you?”

He’s staring at her almost in wonder. It’s not the Tommy she knows. It’s terrifying her.

“Fuck it,” says Clint. There’s a metallic ping. After a few seconds, he hucks something that bounces on the loam.

“Holy shit—“ someone starts.

There’s a deafening explosion. Pieces of dirt start raining to the ground.

“That was a fucking grenade!”

“Then get in there before he throws another one!” someone roars.

“Tommy,” says Ellie, “it’s not too late, okay? You can still forgive him.” She lets the tears run freely, she needs to be able to see him. He’s looking at her in disbelief. “Abby doesn’t fucking matter. She never did. I promise it’s better. It’s what you want. It’s what you need. Joel forgives you, for everything, okay?” She doesn’t know where it’s coming from, she just needs to say it. “He’s not angry anymore. He loves you. Okay? You can still forgive him. It’s better this way, okay? Tell me you understand. Say something.”

His face is so weathered. His good eye has no tears. His mouth is hanging open. He smells like leather, horseback and gunsmoke.

“You’re a goddamn treasure, girl.”

“No,” she’s so angry, “you don’t get to fucking do that. Tommy—Tommy!”

His eyes lose focus and he’s gone.

“No!” she screams into his face.

There’s footsteps in the door behind her. She feels a gun pointed at her back. There’s a gunshot, and he drops. There’s drool running down her chin. She’s gibbering.

She hears Clint grunt by the window, and there’s a struggle. Someone grabbed him through the window, she notes absently. Clint growls and the man slams into the ground behind her. There’s a gunshot, some gurgling, then another shot. It’s quiet outside.

She and Clint look at each other. There’s a haunted look on his face that deepens when he sees her. He looks from Tommy to her. “How many?” It doesn’t sound like her voice.

Clint looks around for a minute, disoriented, then holds up one finger.

Ellie’s gun is in her hand and she stalks out of the doorway.

“Ellie!”

She walks around the shack, down the slope. She sees a wide brimmed hat behind a bush. He looks up long enough to meet eyes with her and ducks back down.

“Jesus Christ, Ellie!” says Clint.

“Was it you? Motherfucker?” A stick crunches under Ellie’s boot. “Did you do it?” Her gun is trained on him.

He rolls to the side and fires his rifle. Ellie twists at the last second, but she feels a white hot pain in her side.

She screams as she shoots him in the face. He goes slack but she shoots him three more times.

Red is pulsing at the edge of her vision. She can hear herself breathing hard.

“Ellie.” Clint’s voice is tentative. He’s half crouched a few feet behind her, holding a hand out as if she’s the one he needs to worry about. “Ellie, you’re bleeding, we need to patch that up.”

Wordlessly, she throws her gun down. She crouches, spitting into the dirt. Wincing at the pain, she drops her pack and pulls her shirts off. She finds some tenderness and brushes the wound on the side of her ribcage. It’s not deep, but it’s long. It’s bleeding quite a bit. She pulls bandages from her pack, splashes alcohol on them, and puts the bandage lead on her back, behind the wound. She waits.

Eventually Clint finds himself and comes over, holding the lead down. “You should let me do that.”

She shakes her head, too angry to speak. After the second pass around her ribcage he lets go and she finishes a satisfactory wrap. She pulls her stuff back on and gets up. It hurts fucking bad. She kicks the hat off the stupid asshole that she’s pretty sure was the leader. “Get Tommy.”

Clint is still holding his gun but he’s half-stunned.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

Clint starts moving.

It’s a long walk back to the horses. The veins are pounding in Ellie’s head but she wills herself to stay lucid. The wound hurts worse now, but it’s stopped bleeding. She’d have to go easy on Eddie.

Clint grunts behind her. She looks back once to make sure he’s got Tommy.

Clint is red-faced and sweating, but looks determined. Tommy’s arms are over Clint’s shoulders, his head leaning against his neck. Tommy’s features are slack. He looks sad, almost. He looks like a little boy.

It happens in her chest again and this time she goes straight to all fours and vomits.

“Fuck, Ellie, are you okay?”

“Stay right there,” she rasps, drool dripping from her lower lip. She wipes it away. “Don’t you dare put him down.” After a minute she climbs to her feet and they keep moving.

She can tell Clint is getting tired by the time they’re at the horses. Tommy is not light. “Put him on Eddie.”

He looks like he wants to give her a look, but he’s not arguing with her right now. He struggles, but he manages to get him up over Eddie’s haunches. Ellie ties him in, and they mount.

The sun is coming up. The eastern sky is a mess of orange and pink clouds. No snow today, but a cold West wind drives them.

They trot all the way back to Jackson.

They’re probably fifty yards from the gate when it opens and Maria comes running out. Ellie grits her teeth.

“Tommy!? Tommy!?”

Ellie pulls Eddie up and just waits. Maria comes right around her. The shrieking starts when she sees his face.

“No! God damn it! God damn it, you idiot!”

Ellie climbs down. Clint’s on his feet already, but he looks helpless. Ellie feels for him. She gestures to Tommy weakly.

The Mayor is still clutching to Tommy, but Clint carefully moves around her to untie him. Maria doesn’t let go and Clint is obviously not comfortable interfering, so he gets his arms around Tommy, and with considerable effort, manages to lay him face up on the earth.

Maria keeps at it.

“You damn idiot… you damn idiot… you damn idiot…”

Ellie’s body feels like lead. There are other people around, so she doesn’t bother with the horses and starts walking back to town. Eddie dances in distress, watching her go. They wrangle him.

Dina is standing by the gate, sad eyes on Ellie. Ellie’s more interested in looking at the dirt. Dina tries to grab her arm as she passes. Ellie pulls away, but not hard. She can feel Dina following her.

As she’s walking past the bookstore, she sees a paper snowman in the window. A painful breath shoots from her nose.

It’s Christmas Eve.

* * *

_I hate today._

_Dina followed me to Joel’s grave. Neither one of us said anything for a while. I really didn’t want her there, but I needed her there._

_I just started talking to Joel. I’ve never done that in front of Dina before, but I didn’t care. I said so much shit… about Tommy. And both of them. I was so mad at Tommy for telling me I never should have met them. I’m not really mad at him, though. It just makes it easier right now. I liked having Tommy around, even after things got bad for him. It was like my last living piece of Joel. He was a good man, like Joel. Just… living in a bad world. Surviving._

_The thing that fucking kills me the most is that Tommy really tried to turn it around. He was starting to get Joel to turn it around. They made something out here. Something beautiful. Jackson. It goes to show that it’s never over. It’s never over till you give up. Then Joel’s blood came back for him, in Abby. And Tommy went and got lost in it. Like I did. By some miracle I found a way out with my life, but Tommy never_

_[Tear smudges, half the page is crinkled.]_

_I am in so much pain._

_After I started crying I tried to kiss Dina. She moved to the side and pulled me into a hug, so I cried harder. I am so ~~worthless~~ stupid. Why can’t Dina see that? She held me for a long time._

_I wanted to just take a long walk but Dina wouldn’t let me. She dragged me back to Jesse’s parents’ house, of all places. I think she knew it would be too much for me to see JJ right now._

_They are such good people. They made amazing food and I actually ate some of it. We spent a long time in front of the fire. They made hot cocoa and just talked, told stories about Jesse and stuff. I didn’t say much. I knew they were worried about me but they let me have my space._

_When we finally left it was getting dark. Dina let me go but she said she would come to my place at ten and if I wasn’t there she was going straight to the stable. She knows how to handle me._

_I saw Maedlyn. I didn’t want to talk to her. It was a totally different Maedlyn. She’d have heard what happened. The whole damn town probably did. Her eyes were so… Like she wanted to come over to me but… didn’t know how, or something. She didn’t follow me._

_I did walk for a while and I ended up sitting in a dark stable in front of Eddie. He looked relieved to see me. I spent a long time just holding him, our heads touching. Eventually someone comes in and it’s Clint._

_I thought I was mad for a second, but I wasn’t. He did an amazing job today. He shouldered a hell of a lot more than he should have had to. I might have died without him. Thankfully he didn’t really try to comfort me. “Just checking in on you, folks are worried.” I told him they should worry about the burial. He made me look at him. He knew he was treading on thin ice. He spoke soft. “You just need to know that we did the very best we could out there. Especially you.” I started crying again on Eddie’s nose. When I next looked he was gone._

_My bed feels so cold. I want to go to Dina but I can’t. I’m scared. This is so much. I remember when Joel died I thought I might not make it. Then I chose Abby, and life. I can’t do that anymore, though._

_Is the cure going to be enough?_

_It has to be._


	7. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets better.

New Year’s passed with the customary celebration. Ellie had never fully understood it. Was it really that different from any other day of the year? But it’s not like she ever complained. All the shop owners set up stalls in the street and they hang lots of lanterns and stuff. People bring out their best. A lot of it is free. Lots of drinks, too. Ellie’s been finding she’s lost most of her craving to drink, like she’s lost most of her craving to eat. Dina encouraged her to eat, though, and she did.

She was there with her the whole night. Her and Dale and JJ. It felt really nice. Ellie felt welcome because she was. She felt like part of the family. Because she was, she guesses. For the night, at least.

It was pretty cold but Mackey set up a projector to put up this huge movie against the wall of the old factory in the park. The kids loved it. There were blankets and snacks and big bunchy jackets everywhere. Ellie, Dina, Dale and JJ watched the second half of a goofy movie on a big quilt the James’s shared with them. JJ loved it. He kept looking at Ellie and smiling all big.

She was really happy for a night.

She wakes up in her bed, and everything is cold. She lets out a long sigh. She needs one of those electric heaters. She doesn’t have a fireplace either, damn it.

She makes the extra effort to bathe herself, then makes off down to the lane to help clean up. She sees Dinas helping tear down a stall as she approaches. He gives her a solemn nod, obviously uncomfortable.

Someone bumps her arm and she looks up to see Maria. She’s holding a steaming thermos. She offers it.

“Ugh, please,” says Ellie.

Maria grins. “You look fairly fresh today.”

“I cleaned up. Probably shouldn’t have bothered, since I’m just going to get dirty again.”

“We always do, don’t we?” Maria’s acting chipper but there are bags under her eyes. She’s giving her this look and it’s kind of nice but Ellie kind of doesn’t like it either. She doesn’t like being taken care of. And Maria’s the one who deserves it more.

“Where should I start?”

Maria’s mouth twists. “Ellie, you don’t really need to worry about this.”

“Bull, Maria. What, you want me to lay in bed all day?”

“Well, no. It’s not like either one of us gets to do that.”

Concern comes over Ellie’s face but Maria shakes her head sharply. “You’re kind of a hero around here, Ellie. It was like a damn western novel, the way you went after Tommy.”

“Clint did almost everything.”

“Not what I heard,” says Maria.

Ellie’s brows pinch, but Maria doesn’t react. “Maria, I just want to get to work.”

Maria’s eyes move over her shoulder. “Well,” she says, sipping her coffee, “maybe work will find you.”

With that she walks away and Ellie is confused. She turns around and Maedlyn’s right there.

“Happy New Year, sugar.”

She’s almost like in Ellie’s dream. She’s got a fur hat on over her tied up hair, and she’s wearing a darling green coat. She’s clutching a big basket of eggs. The morning light beams off her big, blue eyes. Ellie almost feels dizzy.

“Morning,” she manages.

“Heard you were looking for work.”

Ellie looks down at the eggs. She scoffs. “Maedlyn, I really ought to—“

“I heard what Maria said. You’re a hero around here, Ellie. You don’t gotta do dang thing today, except what you want to.” There’s meaning there. Maedlyn offers her the basket. “Won’t you? They’re _real_ heavy.”

“Oh, give me that,” Ellie says, taking the eggs. Maedlyn beams.

Maedlyn had been taking them from Susanna’s over to Guillermo’s for stock. They’re strolling down Elmer’s Lane. Melting snow nestles in the corners of the buildings, and the dirt road is wet. The air is crisp, and it’s beautiful.

“Thanks,” says Ellie, breaking the silence.

Maedlyn’s taken aback, like the last time she thanked her. “For what?”

“Giving me something to do.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, truly. I do like a nice escort.”

“Well, these streets aren’t the meanest.”

“Not like New York?”

Ellie chuckles. “No, not at all, in fact.”

“What do you think about taking me?”

Ellie gawks at her. “To _New York_?”

“I did say I always wanted to go.”

Ellie shakes her head. “You’re not serious.”

“Why not?”

She’s being so ridiculous, but Ellie plays along. “Whatever would Guillermo do?”

“Go out of business, probably.”

Ellie laughs. “You’d break his heart.”

“Mm, well _c’est la vie_.”

Nothing comes to Ellie and she doesn’t respond. Maedlyn eyes her.

Guillermo’s is closed when they get there, but he’s already in the back cooking. His head appears in the window again. “Ah, girl, you’re back! I was getting worried.” He notices Ellie and his eyes widen. “Oh, and you brought your friend! Oh!” He winces in false pain. “How could you go so long without food! Did you forget where I work?”

Ellie snorts. “I did eat since I was last here, you know.”

He looks at her arms. “Oh, are you sure? No matter. It’s perfect.” He’s doing something she can’t see behind the window. “You get a breakfast burrito today. Almost as good as a dinner burrito. But you know, that’s the beauty of my work. They’re good for any meal. One night,” he’s not looking at her and she can hear metal tools working over a sizzling grill, “I wake with a passion. I can’t help it. I have to come down and make myself a midnight burrito. One of the best I ever had!”

Ellie can’t help but smile. Guillermo seems to be a man who loves his work. She holds up the eggs. “Well, here are your eggs, then. They’re _extra_ heavy today.” She looks at Maedlyn, who’s just loving it.

“Perfect!” He takes them. “What you like? Ham? Bacon?”

“Is it goat bacon?”

“Oh!” He acts so wounded. “M, see what you do to me girl? To my reputation!”

Maedlyn giggles.

Ellie’s stomach starts talking like it hasn’t in a while. “Bacon actually sounds awesome.”

Guillermo waves a smart finger. “That’s it, then.”

Maedlyn peers over the window sill. “Did you already make the—oh that’s perfect. She’ll love it.”

“Yes, she will.”

The burrito is a bit massive but it’s full of eggs, potatoes, cheese and crispy, scrumptious bacon. It’s incredible.

“You have to—here,” says Maedlyn. She has a little ceramic dipping dish. It’s full of greenish salsa.

“No way!” says Ellie, pulling her burrito away.

Maedlyn gives her a look. “You _have_ to. Here.”

Before Ellie can further protest, Maedlyn pours just a little bit into the open top of the burrito. Ellie makes noises, but takes a bite anyway. The cool, fresh salsa adds a great contrast to the warm, savory burrito. It makes it even better.

“Alright,” says Ellie, chewing. “You win, but you’re helping me finish this thing.”

“I already ate. I’ll get fat.”

Guillermo offers a real scoff to that. He glances at them slyly, then puts on his face and waves that away like it’s nothing. “Don’t be silly. Give it, eh,” he weighs his hands, “ten or fifteen years. And plenty of patronage at the finest establishment in town. Then maybe.”

Ellie’s teeth are actually showing and she thinks of Tommy. The food loses most of its flavor.

Maedlyn clearly notices. “Fine, if you insist.” She’s got another one of those fetching looks. She puts her hands around Ellie’s, brings the burrito to her mouth and takes a bite.

They take their time finishing the burrito. Guillermo is full of jokes and stories. Ellie starts to get the picture; he feeds, and he entertains. She decides she likes him quite a bit. It’s nice to see someone who really likes their job. And who’s job is pretty much just to make people happy.

“How soon are we opening, G?”

Guillermo considers her. He shrugs. “Eh, people are still sleeping it off. Give it an hour.”

“Oh, good. Want to take a walk, Ellie?”

Ellie looks at Guillermo. “You’re really not going to give us any more work?”

He gives her an entreating look. “Please, girl. This is the good life, here in Jackson. No rush.”

She smiles at that, but there’s sadness in it.

The North side of Jackson is more elevated, and you can look down over the whole town. There’s snow along the lines of the roofs, and smoke coming out of almost every chimney. She sees a squirrel on a tree branch, tail all twitchy. She thinks of Eddie and smiles.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Ellie is tempted to say _you_ but thinks better of it. “My horse.”

“What? Really?”

“He’s a blessed soul, you know.”

“Oh yeah? I’ve met a few of those.” Maedlyn’s hands are clasped behind her. She’s wearing mittens. Ellie almost died when she noticed but she hasn’t let on to Maedlyn.

“Yeah, me too.” Now she’s thinking of JJ. She glances at Maedlyn. She’s watching her.

“Whatcha thinking about now?”

Ellie hesitates. Maedlyn likes her. She really does. But should she? So much of Ellie’s life is… But Maedlyn is a pryer, like Dina… Ellie frowns, looking down at the wet dirt of the path.

“Hey,” says Maedlyn, touching Ellie’s arm. She sighs. “You’re gonna make me say it again, aren’t you? I’m pushy. I know. I just feel like you could use someone to talk to.”

Ellie just looks at her. She wants her so badly, she really does. But how could that be good for Maedlyn?

Ellie reaches out and squeezes her arm. Maedlyn’s face changes again, that more real, vulnerable side. “You’re probably right.” She scratches the back of her head. “I was thinking about JJ.”

“Oh, what a darling. I like him a bunch. You raised him since he was a baby, huh?”

 _Until I didn’t, yeah._ Ellie nods.

“Did you… deliver him?”

Jesus, that was a day. She nods again.

“That’s so special. No wonder Dina cares so much about you.”

Ellie’s face pinches.

“No, I’m not… I won’t ask about Dina again. I’m just sayin’.”

Ellie sniffs. “That girl is truly amazing. I was lucky every minute I had with her. I wish I had done better by her.”

“Well, maybe. But you did keep her alive and get her back to Jackson.”

 _I never should have taken her from Jackson in the first place._ She can see Abby’s snarling face, her arm clutching Dina’s jaw, knife on her throat. Ellie decides she doesn’t want to talk about Dina anymore.

She looks in Maedlyn’s eyes. Every time they snare her, like they’re magnetized. Maedlyn has tons of freckles on her shoulder, but for some reason there’s a lot less on her face. She could probably count the ones on her nose.

Maedlyn’s grinning but her eyes narrow. “You gonna say something, or…?”

“You’re real special too, Maedlyn,” says Ellie. Maedlyn’s act drops again. “You barely know me, but you’re acting like a good friend. I’m just… I worry I’m not built to be a good friend to you.”

“Well, don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?”

Ellie turns her head. “W… What do you mean?”

Maedlyn smirks, back in control. She narrows the distance between them, putting her arms around Ellie’s sides. “You haven’t even asked me about that thing I owe you.”

Ellie blinks. “The thing you owe me…?”

Then she remembers. The last time their faces were this close. Unable to help it, she smiles so wide it makes it hard to kiss her back.

Maedlyn’s breath is soft as a rose petal on Ellie’s cheek. Maedlyn gives her a look. “ _Friend_?” she whispers.

Ellie smiles again. The thing in her chest emanates and her smile fades. She gives Maedlyn a serious look, and Maedlyn’s features slacken, waiting.

“Maedlyn, I’m going to need to leave Jackson again.”

Maedlyn’s shaking her head. “No—“

Ellie takes Maedlyn’s arms, ending their embrace. “No, I _need_ to. Listen…” She tells her. Not the whole story, but the pertinent parts.

“Joel always used to say… Well, basically in a world this ugly, you have to fight to live. And that means you need a reason to keep fighting. Uglier things get… the more you need a reason. This is my last, biggest reason.”

“Jesus Christ, Ellie,” says Maedlyn. Her brow’s all pinched. Ellie doesn’t like this. Maedlyn’s face is supposed to smile. But she has to do this. And if she were to go and take Maedlyn’s heart, it would only get worse, and worse for her.

Maedlyn tries to shake it away. “Oh, Ellie, there’s gotta be someone else. You can’t keep going out there, you won’t get lucky forever. Jesus, _New York_? Are you foolish?”

“I can’t assume there’s someone else.”

“Then why do you assume there’s a doctor? I bet those Fireflies are all wiped out—“

“No.” Ellie is not about to let her talk her out of this.

Maedlyn wants to twist out of it but she can see Ellie’s determination. Her hands are on Ellie’s chest and she hits her lightly with them. Ellie doesn’t budge. Maedly eyes harden as she finds some determination of her own.

“Alright, Ellie. This is how it’s going to be. I know you have this foolish vision in your head. Of a _cure_. And that’d be a fine thing, but if you go out there, you won’t survive. And I can’t have that. Not after everything else you’ve been through. And what you mean to this city.”

Ellie has to admit, it’s hard to hold up against her right now. Maedlyn is no careless flirt. She’s the real deal.

“So here’s what you’re gonna do. You know the old Hansen Manor?”

Ellie blinks. Once upon a time it was probably a lavish house on the south side of town. Now it’s a rundown shamble. Back in school they used to sneak over the fence and play around in there, though. “Yeah.”

“You know the Magnolia tree down in the courtyard?”

Ellie frowns, confused. She nods.

“Tonight, at sunset. I’m gonna be there. I’ll be expecting you. And I _might_ ,” a little of her playfulness comes back, “even have a present for you. And you’re gonna stroll right up, all handsome and such, and I’ll give you another kiss.” She has a confident smile, but she looks like she can’t figure what to say next. She glances to the side, a little nervous. “And we’ll just see where we go from there.”

Ellie doesn’t want to smile, but she is. Maedlyn is impossible. She’s really impossible. Nothing gets in her way. She doesn’t see another way out of the situation.

“Okay.”

* * *

The winter blossoms poke out like little rubies from the snow laden twigs of the Magnolia tree. It’s why Maedlyn picked it. A symbol for the Winter season. No time of year there’s not beauty to be found somewhere. And promise.

Maedlyn clutches the pistol grip behind her back, in her mittens. It used to be her father’s, according to her mom. It’s never been used in a fired weapon, though. Just one of those treasured relics. It’s wood sided, still slick and varnished, with inlaid intricate metallic swirls that her mother swears is gold. Maedlyn rolls her eyes. It’s brass for sure, but even Maedlyn thinks it’s gorgeous, and she does not like guns.

Her mom must really like Ellie. She didn’t hesitate to give it to Maedlyn for this noble purpose.

A nobility her would-be suitor is currently lacking, still absent as the best part of sunset is passing them by.

And she keeps on lacking it, as the sun goes down.

The light gives way to the darkness, and night settles in, bringing the cold right along with it. When the orange is all gone and the stars are coming out, a shuddering breath escapes Maedlyn.

Sometime soon, Ellie is going to ride right out of that gate, and Maedlyn has this horrible, horrible feeling that will be the last anyone ever sees of her. She winces and a tear rolls down her cheek. She holds up the grip and looks at it. The metalwork looks silver in the moonlight. She hucks it into the bushes.

“Damn fool,” she mutters, walking away through the snow.

* * *

_I can’t believe how much this sucks. Fuck. Maedlyn is waiting for me right now. The sun is setting, it’s almost down. I’m hurting her. I know I am._

_I keep seeing her in her fur hat, eyes all bright in the snowy sunlight, holding my hands, making me make a promise I had no intention of keeping. She was so confident. So beautiful. So good._

_I don’t deserve good. I deserve to die. Maybe that’s what will happen, in the hospital._

_I’m so fucked up right now. I know I’m doing the right thing but it does not feel like it._

_I want to look into her eyes again. Why does this feel like this? I barely know her._

_I fucking hate myself._


	8. Grand Junction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw it. Absent any advice about the matter, I'm opening up my backlog. Have all my chapters.
> 
> Lot of dark in the road ahead, but there's good too, I promise. What I said before, I meant. My story is about closure, namely for Ellie.
> 
> I hope some of you are with me. Enjoy.

Ellie is really starting to worry Clint. After they got back she just left him there, with Maria. He was fucking helpless, but other adults started to get the picture and tend to Maria. May was there and she took him straight back to his shop and fed him some pastries and coffee. He remembers sitting there, staring at the Danish. It was really good, as always.

It didn’t really hit Clint, not like it hit Ellie. But he could feel the significance of it. If he had—for some god-forsaken reason—imagined it beforehand, he would have pictured Ellie down there in the dirt with Maria, crying. But she acted like she couldn’t, or something. He could practically see her holding it in. And if she was, what the hell else was she holding.

Later that night he felt like he had to talk to her. They went through that thing together. Shit, they almost died.

He found her in the stable with her horse. Of all places… She really cares about that boy. He’s a good horse. Smart, Clint could tell, when they were out there. The way his eyes look around. She rode back to Jackson on him. They probably went through a lot together.

He walked over and got his attention. He thought she’d be mad but she wasn’t. He had a lot in his head he could have said, but it didn’t seem important when she was looking into his eyes. So he just said what he had to say. Someone should be there for her. There were tears on her face. But that someone wasn’t him, he knew that, so he left.

After that he scarcely saw her through New Year’s. It was a great night. He didn’t drink much because it didn’t feel right, somehow. Awesome food, though. He spent it with Gary and Jessica. They’re totally dating. He stopped by May’s booth, too. She had her usual big smile for him. She gave him a free berry pastry. It was awesome.

No one ever told Clint, and no one ever would, but he had a pretty good idea. That his mother had asked May to look after him when she was gone. Clint doesn’t hold it against her, or anything. He likes May. She’s good people. Sometimes when he’s out on patrol, he thinks he’s helping to keep her safe, and that makes him feel good.

Since there’s a couple people in particular he can’t keep safe anymore.

A couple more days pass and Clint hears a little about Ellie but doesn’t see her. He’s getting a little worried. Has the plan changed? Is Ellie losing her spirit? That would be bad… If what Ellie told him in front of the lodge is true, this could be the most important mission on the planet. He rubs his chin. Sounds fucking ridiculous, but it could be actually true.

One night as he’s getting ready for bed, he’s thinking he’s gonna have to track her down tomorrow, and there’s a knock on his door. He opens it and she’s standing right there.

“Ellie…” Clint is standing there in his shirt and pajama bottoms.

“I think I’m ready to go,” says Ellie. She doesn’t wear hats but she doesn’t act cold. There’s snow in her hair. Clint’s feet are freezing from the draft, but she doesn’t act like she wants to come in.

Clint looks around, bewildered. “ _Now_?”

Ellie laughs. “Shit, no, not now. In the morning, though.” She’s serious again. “Can you do that?”

Clint scratches his head. “Well… yeah, I guess. There’s some people I have to say goodbye to.” Only one, really.

“Good. We’ll leave an hour after dawn, then.” She turns as if to go.

“Ellie,” he says, and she stops. He smirks. She calls him all business, but when she’s serious it really better describes her. “We’re really gonna do this thing?”

She eyes him and the beginning of a smile finds her lips. “You better fucking believe it.”

He does.

He wakes up the next morning, thinking of a cup of hot black coffee, rubbing his hands together. Then he remembers and stops. His brow firms up.

He does fucking believe it. And he is not going to let Ellie down.

He cleans up and gets his gear together—his best gear, for this particularly long patrol, and all his ammo. His pack’s pretty heavy. He checks his axe head. Sharp and polished, as usual.

He walks into May’s café with his pack on. She smiles when she sees him, but it fades. “Hey Clint, grabbing some coffee for patrol?” Patrol leaves before dawn, and she knows that. He told her last week. She doesn’t want to believe it’s today.

He walks over and lays his elbows on the counter. “No. Grabbing some coffee for the big one.”

She purses her lips and tilts her head in a sad look. “Oh no… not so soon. Don’t you think you should wait another couple weeks, plan it out more?”

“I have a feeling Ellie has done plenty of planning.”

“Yeah…” May scratches her lip. “Can I trust you with that girl? Cause I’m not letting you leave if I can’t.”

The memory of Alpenhof Lodge comes back and he brushes it aside. “You can trust me,” says Clint. He’s trying to smile, and show all the confidence he wasn’t necessarily feeling. He doesn’t like goodbyes.

“Oh, Clint.” She reaches out and pinches his cheek. She’s probably the last living person he’d let do it. “I remember when you were a youngin’.”

“I was sixteen when you met me.”

She arches her brows. “That’s a youngin’. Jeez, why couldn’t they get one of those griseled old farts to do this thing? Dinas or something. Maria sends you? On this _mission_?” She makes air quotes.

Clint decides not to mention that it’s really Ellie that’s doing it. “Guess this is just the way it had to be.”

“Oh well aren’t you the determined hero.” She frowns, takes a breath and lets it out. “Well just don’t go and be too heroic, alright?”

“I promise.”

She comes around the counter and gives him a hug. She smells like flour. “Come back soon as you can.”

“I promise that too.”

When he gets to West Gate, Ellie is already there, but it looks like she just got there. She’s already got Eddie and Starbeam. A breath shoots through Clint’s nose. He’s really going to ride across the country on a life or death mission on top of a horse named Starbeam. Maybe he can rename her…

Ellie is talking to Dina, Dale and JJ, the only other ones there. There are some folks over the fence, working the stables.

“Yeah, well I hope he knows it too.” It’s Dina, but Clint doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She notices him and looks his way. It makes him nervous.

“Yeah,” says Ellie, watching him, “well as long as he listens to me, we’ll be fine.”

“Reporting for duty, Captain Ellie.” He decides not to intervene in the conversation and climbs on top of Starbeam. He gives her a little scratch on the jowl.

Ellie sighs. “I guess it’s time.”

“After all of that,” says Dina, “now you don’t want to leave Jackson?” She’s holding JJ.

Ellie scratches the back of her head. “Part of me never did, but… things happen.”

Dina’s gaze lingers on her, a smile painted on her lips. “Yep. They sure do.” She glances at JJ, then eyes Ellie. “You really sure?”

Ellie nods, looking determined. Dina puts JJ down.

He’s pretty damn cute in his big Winter jacket, but there’s a look of consternation on his face. He’s staring at Ellie. She kneels down in front of him.

“Hey, little spud. I wasn’t looking forward to this part.” Ellie brushes a bit of his hair to the side. Kid’s probably gonna be pretty handsome when he grows up, if it’s up to either of his parents’ genes.

JJ’s face hasn’t changed. He probably doesn’t understand what’s happening at all.

“Me and Clint are going on a long ride. A real long one. I won’t be back for a while.”

“No,” says JJ. The adult chuckle, but he’s dead serious. “No!”

“Listen,” says Ellie. She’s about a foot from him. “You know how your dad has his job? How he has to go away for a while every day? Well, I have a job too. It’s really important actually. So I have to go away for a while too.”

“How long?” he asks. He’s pretty articulate for his age. His brow is still pinched.

“Ah…” Ellie rubs her jaw. “Being honest? I’m not sure, but it could be like last time.”

JJ’s eyes go wide and he stiffens up. “No!”

“JJ, this is my job, I have to—“

But he’s not hearing it. “No!” he shouts again, baring his teeth. He rears up his arm and strikes Ellie in the face with his fist.

It can’t have hurt at all but Ellie goes straight to her feet. She takes a step back. JJ is glaring at her. Ellie looks stunned.

“JJ!” says his mom. She goes down and picks him up. “JJ we don’t hit like that! You know that!” She keeps glancing at Ellie nervously. Ellie takes another step back, honestly she looks a bit haunted. She’s staring at JJ’s glaring face. Her eyes move around and she climbs straight onto Eddie.

“Ellie, no!” says Dina. “Wait—damn it, Dale, _take him_!” Dale finally takes JJ from Dina and Dina runs around Eddie, grabbing the reins. “Damn it, Ellie, you’re not leaving like this, okay?” Ellie stares at her, eyes slightly wide. “He didn’t mean that, okay? Jesus, he’s two. He’ll stop being mad in like twenty minutes. He’ll probably ask for you later. Don’t do that, okay?”

Ellie just stares.

Clint’s limbs are stiff. He feel like he should do something but he’s frozen. This feels private, but he’s stuck right here.

“Ellie, I love you. He loves you. That’s never going to change.” Dina bares her teeth. “Ellie you’re gonna come back from this thing in one piece, alright? For him, and for me. Tell me. Promise me!”

Compelled, Ellie finally nods.

Dina looks at Clint. “You promise too.”

Clint’s stomach twists. There’s part of it that goes unsaid, but Dina’s eyes make it perfectly clear.

_And it’ll be on you if she doesn’t._

He nods.

The gate’s already open. “Let’s ride, Clint.” Dina’s still holding the reins. Ellie looks at her. “You guys take care of each other.”

Dina finally lets go and Ellie brings Eddie right up to a gallop, and Clint’s right behind her.

* * *

The air is crisp and cutting as they rush through it on horseback, but the sky is clear today. The sun is climbing the frosty blue sky. They ride south down the valley, coming up alongside the Snake River. It’s waters are a deep blue now, thundering along beside them. At one point Clint sees a fish jump from the surface. How does something survive in a current that cold?

They gallop for a long while, then canter, then Ellie pulls Eddie up and Clint does the same. They couldn’t have continued like that forever. Horses wouldn’t last. But Clint has a feeling that Ellie just had to run that off. The horses snort and shake their heads. Clint reaches down and rubs Starbeam’s neck empathetically.

He looks over his shoulder up the valley. It’s a beautiful place, they live in. Lived. They can still see Jackson, a thin horizontal line in the distance. Clint could feel the distance growing the whole ride. He leaves that town just about every day, but each time with the intention to return. But not this time. It was going to be a long time before he got his hands on another waffle sandwich. He’s already starting to miss it.

He sets his jaw and pinches his brow. But he wouldn’t go back for anything. Ellie cannot be out here on her own. Everything she has she’s leaving behind too. And she’s been through…

He glances at her. She’s just sitting on Eddie, back to him, panting like she’d been running too. She rolls her shoulder. She’s got lean, stringy arms, but her back is pretty muscular. A lot wider than when he’d first met her. She’s done a lot of fighting. It’s changed her.

He’s thought about what’s brought them together, but it still doesn’t really make sense. It doesn’t need to, though. They’re together now. And he is not going to let Ellie down.

“You steady?” he asks her.

She half turns. She lets one more breath out of her nose and her breathing goes back to normal. Eddie is munching on grass. “You know we can still go back, give up on this ridiculous thing.” She looks at him.

He considers her and snorts. “We haven’t even left the valley yet and you’re getting cold feet? Food in Jackson too good to lose?”

“Yeah…” says Ellie, smiling as she turns, “give it a couple weeks and you’ll be crying for one of your sandwiches.” She flicks the reins and they pick back up.

They ride mostly in silence that day. They alternate between walk and canter on the horses. Don’t want to wear them out. They eventually lose sight of Jackson and land on the 191. It’s mostly clear of cars, being a country highway. People that ran into trouble or out of gas tended to do that in urban areas. They ride the horses mostly on the side of the highway, where possible, to ease their hooves.

It’s pretty exposed, but they don’t encounter a soul, infected or otherwise for the rest of the day. They end up pulling up a little before sundown north of Beaver Mountain.

Clint spent a lot of the last week looking at maps. He’s got a few in his pack. It’s a big damn country. They’ve barely made any distance from Jackson.

They’re setting up camp under the cover of some trees when he turns to Ellie, striking up a fire. “Ellie,” he starts in a tone that says she’s been holding out on him.

She looks up at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Where the fuck are we going?”

“Oh,” she says, then she smiles and continues striking the flint. “You mean you weren’t just going to blindly follow me into oblivion?”

“Rather not.”

“Grand Junction.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a city in Western Colorado. I passed through it on my last trek. I was just looking for supplies, when—call it fate if you want to, I don’t fucking know—I stumbled on a freaking Firefly den. Or base, camp, whatever.”

Clint can’t believe it. “Shit, Ellie, was there anyone there?”

“No. Been empty a long time.” The kindling catches and she blows on it. “But there were papers. And a radio.”

Clint kinda doesn’t want to admit it but it’s actually a pretty damn good lead. “Grand Junction then.”

They were going to have to hunt and forage for most of their food, but that ain’t easy in the winter and they brought a lot of canned stuff. Good canned stuff, not the heinous, expired shit from pre-outbreak. Ellie makes a pretty bland soup and they have some of their dried fruit.

It’s getting dark, but it’s still warm by the fire. They’re just laying against some logs they pulled up.

“God damn it!” says Ellie, pretty much out of nowhere.

“What’s the matter?” asks Clint.

“Clint, do you have any exes?”

Not expecting the question, he lays there awkwardly with one hand half raised. “Uh, yeah. Jessica, I guess.”

“Did she get with an asshole after that?”

“Um, no, actually—“

Ellie’s eyes offer emphasis. “She got with a nice guy?”

“Yeah, Todd—“

“Doesn’t that fucking _suck_?”

A laugh jumps out of Clint. He bunches his lips and nods. “Yeah. You know what, Ellie? That does suck.”

She laughs a little. “Now _I’m_ the asshole!”

“Yep,” says Clint, “me too.”

“It’s fucking bullshit!” She rolls over, facing away from him. He glimpses the line her side makes and he goes back inspecting his knife. “No wonder we’re the ones sleeping out here in the cold.”

He wants to laugh at that, or offer a witty retort, since that had been going pretty well. Nothing seems to want to come out of him, though.

Fabric rustles and Ellie looks over her shoulder at him. “Never mind that, Clint. I shouldn’t be grouping us together.”

“Well, you kinda did.”

“Okay but don’t take it—“

“No, not that.” She looks again. Clint gestures around them to the trees and darkness.

She scoffs and lays back down. “I guess that’s true.”

“We’re two assholes in a pod, now.”

“That’s just an awful image.”

That does get a laugh out of him.

* * *

It’s a cold Winter but they have a good tent and a couple of the best sleeping bags they could get their hands on, so they do alright. Doesn’t do much to soften the ground, though. Clint’s back complains quite a bit the first week or so.

After they get out of the Wyoming mountains and onto the greater plains, riding is pretty good. Not much in the way of cover out here, but the terrain is covered in low, rolling hills, so they take the low parts and don’t encounter anyone. They have to jump a few fences.

Ellie’s a damn clean shot with her bow. Clint sees her take out a rabbit at probably fifty yards. They don’t get meat every night, though. A lot of animals still hibernating.

It’s a pretty common sight for Ellie to pull out her journal at night. Sometimes she writes, sometimes she draws. He doesn’t ask. He catches her eye one night as she’s working on it. She gives him a level look.

“Read it anytime you want,” she says. She goes back to writing. “Just remember the price is your life.”

He snorts.

He wonders what she gets out of it. They’re picking over an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere when he opens a drawer and finds a notebook. He opens it. It’s never been written in. There’s one page torn out. He even finds some working writing utensils. That night by the fire he pulls it out. Ellie chuckles.

“Oh man…”

“What?” says Clint. Ellie is so good at getting under his skin. He really tries not to be defensive, but she… Sometimes it seems like she thinks of him as way younger, even though it’s only a couple years.

She has one of those damn knowing smiles. “I mean,” she says, fingers moving in her smooth, rhythmic motions of sketchwork, “there are worse examples to follow.” She lifts her hand, inspecting her work. “Probably,” she finishes in a different tone.

He cocks an eyebrow but doesn’t respond. It’s cold that night and dinner was pretty lousy. They go to sleep early.

* * *

The infected are pouring in through the window, wailing in horrid screeches of hate. Bev’s back is to him, she fires off several shots. She turns to him, face red and raging.

“Clint! Go fucking help her!” She fires off more shots.

Clint’s body won’t move. He’s crying again. The gun is cold and useless in his hands.

The runner’s feet pound the ground as they charge. She shoots another one down. She turns to him again. “Clint! Fucking move!”

He can’t move.

“Would you listen to me, god damn it!” She keeps shooting, but she’s staring at him. One of the infected grabs her arm and bites her wrist. She doesn’t pay any mind. “Why aren’t you doing what I god damn told you!” More infected grab her and she ignores them as they start tearing into her arms with their teeth, ripping away blood and tendons. “Clint!”

Now she’s on the ground, under the railing. The infected are all over her, devouring her. She won’t stop looking at him. He’s quivering.

“Would you fucking listen to me for once!”

* * *

Clint starts up from his sleeping bag and emits a shuddering moan. He brings his hand to his face and massages his eyes. He steadies his breathing. He hopes Ellie didn’t hear that.

Fuck, he hates that dream.

It’s still dark outside, and very quiet. He looks over and sees Ellie looking at him with a neutral expression.

 _Shit_.

She doesn’t say anything, though. He lays back down. He doesn’t expect to get anymore sleep.

He can see moonlight through the canvas walls of their tent, sloping to the peak line. No crickets in the winter. Just the susurrus of the wind. An hour later, the sun starts to rise.

Ellie gets up and starts getting ready without saying anything. Clint doesn’t think either one of them slept after his dream.

Their breakfasts are always cold, but Clint starts a fire for coffee. He only made room for one can, so he only uses it when he really wants it. This is the first time so far. Ellie gives him a questioning look. He pulls out the can. She rolls her eyes, hard.

“I can’t believe you’re making Starbeam carry that thing.”

“Eddie’s carrying about fifty pounds of firearms.”

“Those are useful.”

He makes it in a pot and pours it carefully into his thermos through a rag. He takes a sip while it’s still piping hot. It’s pretty damn good.

“You wanna talk about it?” asks Ellie.

Clint studies her. Behind her he can still see the mountain range around Jackson, regal and permanent. The sky is a light, burgeoning blue, with masses of great, whirling clouds. It’s beautiful.

He’s not sure she really wants to know. But she is asking. He looks down at his steaming coffee and considers.

“My sister.”

“Bev?”

 _Shit_. He was talking in his sleep too? Either Ellie’s a light sleeper or she just has trouble sleeping at all.

“Yeah, Bev,” Clint says. He swirls his coffee around in his thermos and screws the lid on. “Man, she was bossy. I loved her, though. She kept me and mom alive. I was young, back then.” There’s a bitter twist on his lips. “She always treated me like a kid. She refused to teach me how to use a gun.”

“That’s—“ Ellie starts, then catches herself. He looks at her.

“Stupid. Yeah.” His arm flexes and he clenches his fist for a second. “You and I can agree on that.

“We had a close call one time.” He can see the infected pouring in from the window, his sister ripping off shots as she screams for him to help their mom clear the door. “Almost bit it. But we didn’t, and after that I demanded she start letting me help. So she relented. Didn’t help when—“ He has to stop suddenly. He looks down and rubs his jaw. It’s hard to keep his voice even.

“Didn’t help when it really mattered.” He can see her under the railing, eyes on him, a strange smile on her face. “Got surprised by infected in an old community center. They tackled her on this walk by a railing above the pool. I kept shooting… I kept shooting but they didn’t give a shit about me, too busy—“ _Mauling her_ , he doesn’t say. He takes a breath. “When they were all dead she was still there, but she was bleeding out. And that…” He shakes his head. This has gone on long enough. “And that was it.”

“I’m sorry.” Ellie’s watching him, cutting her cowboy figure, right hand on her gun holster. There’s pity in her eyes, but not more than he can handle. He can’t tell what she’s thinking. But she’s listening, she’s really listening.

“Well…” He gets up and straps his thermos on Starbeam. He’s in a dour mood. “Shit. I guess I am too, but what are we gonna do about it?”

“This, I guess.”

He looks at her but she doesn’t elaborate. She walks over and climbs on Eddie. Eddie’s looking at him. Ellie clicks her tongue and they start moving.

They cover a lot of ground that day.

Clint’s not keeping track, but it takes them probably around two weeks to reach Grand Junction.

They come down straight from the North over some low, sandy foothills. They’re pretty much avoiding all established roadways. They even got one of those marked up maps the traders use and sometimes sell. With modern trade routes on them. They’re far from complete, but they show where they might expect caravan traffic and particularly dangerous areas. Very useful. Ellie had been impressed when Clint showed her. They hadn’t had those last time she was in Jackson.

They reach a point where they have a good vista of Grand Junction. They’re above the airport, and the towns stretches out before them. It’s mostly suburban. There are some two and three story buildings downtown. The hospital stands out. Off to the West there’s farmland. Which, Clint can only tell because of the patchwork fencing and pathways. It’s all overgrown.

He stops. No, it isn’t. There are some sections on the South side that are clearly planted. “Ellie,” he says. She looks. He points it out to her. She nods.

“Yeah, there were assholes here last time too.”

“What flavor?”

“Not sure, didn’t get close. They drive around in trucks, though, so they’ve got gear.”

“Max caution, then.”

“Max caution.”

They spend the better part of the day riding around the foothills until they find a path down that’s relatively covered. On the outskirts of town they tie up the horses at Ellie’s insistence. They use long ties so they can roam and graze.

They creep into town, eyes searching, going house to house. Now and then they hear infected behind some wall, but they don’t bother with any of them. The houses are all pretty beat up and weathered, yards riddled with scrubby, snow covered bushes. It was probably a pretty nice neighborhood at one time, though.

“How far?” Clint asks in a low voice.

“Half mile.”

It ends up being a low, rectangular building. Looks like it was built a hundred years ago. Doesn’t even have a modern parking lot, just a little paved area by the corner of the block and a brown grass field behind it. It was probably an old timey warehouse. It’s not very big. The doors around the outside are all welded shut, and the small windows so boarded up it’s probably pitch black inside. It’s the kind of post-outbreak building that screams _do not enter_.

“Shit, in there?” Clint asks.

She smirks at him. “Scared?”

He scoffs. “How do we get into this shit?”

She points a finger up. There’s an old dumpster on the field side. They climb up. She boosts him first, since catching all Clint’s weight with one hand is a dubious proposition, even for Ellie.

He is pretty nervous, actually. Infected he can handle. People are fucking dangerous, and they could be anywhere. If he were one of them he’d post lookouts throughout the city. He glances around, but it’s just still, quiet houses. The skies are gray. A light snowfall starts.

Ellie leads him to a trap door on the corner of the roof. She pulls it open slowly, but it still squeals a bit. As Clint expected, it’s pitch dark inside.

“After you,” says Ellie.

Clint switches on his flashlight and starts climbing down the ladder. At the bottom he turns and sees a huge stash of crates and stuff covering an entire wall of the warehouse. Then he turns and sees why.

The floor of the warehouse is dominated by bunks and more modern looking storage boxes. There are desks, equipment. On the other side he can see the radio. Above it, someone spray painted the Firefly symbol. The crates against the wall were probably the original contents of the warehouse they needed to get out of the way.

Ellie drops down behind him with a _huff_.

“Ellie what compelled you to enter this creepy ass building?”

She considers him. “The most foreboding buildings are the ones most likely to still have stuff in them." She kicks a can as she walks in, it rattles across the floor. _Not very careful_. “And it does.”

Well, it did. The storage containers are almost totally empty. No food, or guns, but there are some medical supplies. Clint also finds a bottle of brandy. He considers, then puts it in his pack.

“You’re sharing that.” Ellie is going over one of the desks.

“Finders keepers.”

“I found the building!”

“You find anything over there?”

“I mean…” She frowns as she reads something under her flashlight. “It’s interesting, but not really.” She drops it and walks over to the radio.

Clint walks over and sees what she was looking at.

_No more skirmishes. This is straight from Marlene. FEDRA’s a son of a bitch and we’re at the point where we need to rally. Don’t get cozy, you’re probably gonna get recalled from that location. I know how much you love it._

Ellie gave up too early. If that is indeed what happened, there have to be orders here somewhere. He starts sorting through the papers.

He hears a click and turns to see electronic lights. “What the hell?”

“Sweet,” says Ellie. She flicks on a desk light.

“How did you do that without a generator?”

“There’s some kind of fuel cells here or something. It’s kinda Gerry rigged. Little sketch, but it works.” She starts messing with the radio. Static comes out, but that’s all.

Clint tries his desk light and gets nothing. Damn it.

He continues poring over the paperwork. It actually sheds a lot of light about how the Fireflies operated. They’re paramilitary, but their mission stays front and center. Leadership keeps them on track when they start getting antsy to take the fight to FEDRA, or whatever bastard ass local organization FEDRA turned into. Not much seems to have happened in Grand Junction. They were pretty much just hiding here. They relay messages over the AM radios. That’s what these ‘bases’ are for. Radio signal can only travel a few hundred miles at a time, under ideal circumstances. So they have to hopscotch their way across the country.

Fucking bad news, because Clint has the impression that most if not all of these bases are shut down, just like this one.

He picks up another piece of paper and freezes. It’s not like the others.

“Damn it,” says Ellie. She’s been trying all sorts of stations but hasn’t gotten any response. “I’ve tried every frequency on this list, and nothing. Damn it, why aren’t there more frequencies?”

“Ellie.” He doesn’t look but he can tell he has her attention. He starts reading.

“Fucking mess, right? Well you can blame Cortez for that. He was always a slob. Anyway, if you’re reading this, and you are actually crazy enough to be on the hunt for Fireflies, we’ve all been recalled to regional in Portland. There are maps in the top right drawer. We left a few. God help you if you want to join us, but we could use you. Take whatever you need, not like we can stop you. We took everything we could carry. Pack’s real heavy and Cortez is gonna owe me for carrying all this damn booze.

“Anyway. Look. I’ll be honest. It’s bad out there. It’s not good in Bland Junction and others have it a lot worse. There’s a chance we won’t make it to Portland. But we’re going to try. We’re not giving up,” Clint pauses, looking at Ellie. “And neither should you.”

For a few moments there’s nothing but the static from the radio. Ellie’s expression is pensive. She looks down.

“Where’s Portland?” Clint asks.

“Too close to Seattle,” she mutters. “And a long ass way from here.”

“Good thing we have the kids then.” It’s become Clint’s nickname for the horses. It usually makes Ellie roll her eyes, but not now. She keeps frowning. Bad memories, maybe. Well, that sucks, and Clint knows it well, but this is a win. “Buck up, kiddo, we got ground to cover.”

That does make her give him a look. She walks over and opens the desk drawer, pulling out a couple maps.

“Hey,” says Clint, “we only need one.”

She looks at him like he’s stupid.

“Others might come after us and find the note,” he says defensively.

She looks like she can’t believe him. “Others? Clint, we are the probably the last living people that are going to enter this building until—“ She stops abruptly.

Clint’s brow pinches. “Until? Until what?”

“Nevermind. We’re taking two. One of us could lose our pack but we can’t lose this map. Come on.”

He follows up her up the ladder and out of the building. His boots smack onto the asphalt as he jumps off the dumpster. He searches the buildings around them but it’s as quiet as when they arrived. The snow drifts silently through the air. “Let’s get out of Bland Junction,” he says in low tones.

Ellie doesn’t respond but starts walking. They come back around the corner of the decrepit building in the direction of the horses. When they turn the corner, there are four people there.

“Fuck!” says Ellie.

Something flies through the air and hits Clint, but it’s not a bullet. It wraps around him and thuds him in the chest. He can’t move his right arm.

“Fucking nailed ‘em!” It’s a guy not much older than them with dark hair and narrow eyes. He’s got an ugly smirk on. “Don’t worry, Kat, we’ll teach you to bola someday.”

They got Ellie, too, both her arms are bound. “Clint!” she says, voice tinged with rage.

Suddenly he’s got a gun in his right hand, but immediately he’s aware of three barrels pointed at him.

“Ah ah ah. Put that down. Now.”

The math isn’t hard.

“Clint!”

Die now, or maybe survive. Clint slowly lowers his gun to the ground.

“Good boy,” the narrow eyed guy saunters over. “Ah… good haul here. You kids are going to behave, aren’t you?” He looks Ellie up and down. “Oh ho ho, look at this one. We have a winner.”

“I’ll bite your fucking throat out!”

He laughs. “Whoa! Maybe not.” He eyes the others. “Tell you what, why don’t you come try?”

Ellie is snarling. She looks ready to do it. She doesn’t move. He approaches her slowly. She actually lunges at him, but he catches her collar with his left hand and brutally pistol whips her with his right. She goes down.

That red rage lights up in Clint’s chest. He catches the guy’s eyes. “You are going to regret that.” The others are slowly surrounding him.

“I don’t really like your attitude.” He makes a gesture. Something slams into Clint’s head, and everything goes black.


	9. Too Late

Someone slaps Clint across the face. His eyes shoot open. For an instant, he sees someone holding a camera, then a flash blinds him. He pinches his eyes shut.

 _Shit_. His head is pounding, on the right side. He tries to move but his hands and feet are bound. He’s in a chair.

“Not my best,” says the photographer, “but it gets the gist.”

“Alright,” someone says. He’s older. Clint can hear authority. “Do it.”

He looks over and Ellie is slumped in a chair a few feet away. A black girl slaps her, hard. Ellie’s eyes shoot open and she gets snapped too. She pinches her eyes shut. “Motherfucker! What the fuck are you doing?!” She struggles, but she’s also bound. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” she screams.

A few of them laugh. There are at least eight in the room. The one who took the picture shakes the polaroid and inspects it for a few moments. He starts laughing.

“Oh my god, it’s perfect. She looks stupid. Hot though.”

“Nice,” says the older man. He’s got an ugly mien. He’s not enjoying it like the younger ones, but he’s got some kind of smile on his face. He looks at Clint. “Lock ‘em up. Keep this clean.” He walks away, and a couple of them follow him.

They’re in an emptied out office in a building with concrete walls. Sunlight is coming in through a small window across the way. They grab Clint and haul him up. He resists minimally. He has no options here. And fighting is just going to make him mad, and maybe injured. Ellie kicks and screams the whole way.

They’re in an old jail or something. A lot of concrete and ugly blue tile. It’s pretty barren, but clean. The floors are even swept. They operate out of here. Eventually they’re dragged into a large, open, two story room with jail cells lining the walls. Many of them are occupied. Quiet, sad eyes look up at them as they’re brought in.

“Where do we put ‘em? Reg would want them separate.”

“Nah, fuck it. Throw him in with his girlfriend. Here.” One of them—the narrow eyed guy—produces a key ring and opens a cell. There’s someone in there already. When the door’s open, they shove him in there unceremoniously. He lands on his right arm and shoulder. It hurts. He doesn’t even look at them. He’s not going to give them the satisfaction.

“I know all your faces!” Ellie rages. “You’re all going to fucking die!”

A couple snicker. They shove her in too.

The cell door slams with a clang and they get locked in.

“Who’s guard tonight?”

“Anya.”

“Ooh, want company?”

“Fuck off, Travis.” It’s the black girl that slapped Ellie. The narrow eyed guy hands her the key ring.

“Well, I don’t know about y’all, but I’m off to Paddy’s. I heard Earl hunted down a hog.”

“Oh, yeah! Me too! I’ll get the first round.” They’re walking away as a group.

“Fuck you!” says Anya. “You owe me like five rounds, Larry.”

“Shoot, bum luck. No drinking before duty. Guess it’ll wait till next time.”

Clint has pulled himself up into a slump against the cold, concrete wall. A heaviness has settled over him. They didn’t even make it out of the first god damn city. He sighs.

He looks at Ellie. She’s watching them go with hatred in her eyes.

He notices the third person in the cell. At first he thinks it’s a woman, but she’s got a masculine face and scrubby beard. He’s got long, dark hair, and he’s wearing a battered, maroon dress with a coat over it. He meets Clint’s eyes. There’s a deep and abiding sadness there. He’s also sitting against the wall. He smiles weakly. “Clara,” he says.

Clint’s confused, but he doesn’t ask. “Clint,” he says.

Ellie isn’t paying attention to either of them. When the hunters are gone she gets up and goes to the door. She works her fingers at the lock. She’s concentrating.

“There’s no way you can pick that with your fingers,” says Clint.

“Obviously,” she responds. She’s still pissed. “But I can definitely pick it.” She starts trying to search her pockets, without much luck since she’s tied up.

“Here,” says Clara. He gets up slowly. He produces a piece of scrap metal. One of the edges is rough. Ellie holds up her bonds and Clara works his way through them. When her hands are free, Ellie takes it and cuts her feet. Then she comes over to Clint and starts working on his.

“Assholes know you have this thing?” Ellie asks.

“Well, they must know we have something, since we keep getting out of our bonds. But they haven’t asked.” There’s basically nothing in the cell. Just a long metal bench on the wall, supported by chains. Clara sits on it.

When Ellie’s done with Clint’s ties, she gets up and resumes searching her pockets. “Shit,” she says. She starts on the pockets of her jacket. “ _Shit!_ ” she says. “They fucking took everything!”

“They’re thorough,” says Clara.

“You guys got any other tools?” Ellie holds up the scrap metal. “Piece of metal? Long and skinny? Like a fence wire or something?” She turns and grabs the bars with her hands, addressing the others in the jail. “You guys have anything like that? Three inches? Fuck, two inches and I can get us out of here!”

No one responds.

“Damn it, seriously?!” She sighs in exasperation and pushes off the bars.

“If they catch you with something like that,” someone starts, Clint can’t see who, “they beat the shit out of you, or kill you, or both.” Their voice is deep, and tired.

Ellie sighs. She looks at Clara. “Dude, what is this place?”

He’s resting his head against the wall with a resigned smile. “A prison,” he says.

“Clara…”

He sighs and considers. “They’re slavers.”

Ellie’s brow furrows. “How does that work?”

“They took your picture, right?”

Ellie scowls. “Yeah.”

“It’s advertising. They don’t talk to us, but they use those pictures to sell us to people on the outside. Every once in a while a caravan must come through, because they’ll come in here and take a bunch of people out of their cells. They never come back.” He looks at the floor and his face sags. When he speaks again, it’s pretty quiet. “They only take the strong and pretty.”

A woman across the room starts softly crying.

Veins are showing in Ellie’s left arm. “How often?”

“Every four or six weeks, or so.”

“How many since the last time?”

“About four.”

Ellie looks at Clint. It says _that is not going to fucking happen to us._

She squats, thinking. “Clint, help me look around.” She starts crawling around the floor, brushing through the dust. Clint is really impressed by her determination. He complies.

“If any of you has anything like I described,” she calls out as she searches, “and you don’t want to be a fucking slave or die, you better sack up and tell me!”

They scuttle around the cell for a while, in circles. There are some pebbles, an old coin. Almost nothing. Clint actually does find a little piece of wire, and Ellie tries fervently for a while, but it’s too flimsy.

“ _Damn_ it!” she curses, throwing it to the floor. She slumps down against the cell bars.

“There’s a lot of fight in you.” It’s Clara. He’s been watching patiently. “I like it. Don’t lose that.” His eyes are solemn. “Not in here. And not out there.”

Clint’s jaw his clenched. They’d both heard it. When that asshole had said that Ellie was a winner. They are gonna take her for sure. They might take him too, he’s young and strong. But they would probably be separated.

Ellie was right. That can’t fucking happen.

When he looks she’s watching him. She looks into the distance and rests her head against the wall. “Good,” she says. The shafts of light from the windows are turning colors. Evening is coming on. “For a while there I thought you were gonna give up.”

Without much else to do, they settle into the routine. Which is basically sit against the walls with your hands clasped, ruminating on how much this sucks. Every once in a while, Clint can hear a muted conversation occurring somewhere in the cells. He can’t make them out, generally. They’re not usually very long. After an hour or so, he can hear one start up nearer.

“I can fight them, if you want. When they come.” It’s a man’s voice.

“No.” It’s a woman.

“Sarah, how can I just let it happen.”

“I’m going to talk to them. We can go together.”

“Sarah—“

“Just tell them you’ll go for free. I don’t care what happens to me as long as we’re together.”

“Sarah, no one talks to them. You know what happens when you try.”

“Just tell them you’ll go for free.”

“Come on. I’m not mine. I’m theirs. I can’t give their property away for free.”

“Don’t talk like that.” There’s contempt in her voice.

“Sarah, that won’t work. I’ll have to fight, or they’ll just take you—“

“And what?” She raises her voice. “Fight, and die? And I get to watch that and go alone and that’s supposed to make it better?”

“Sarah…”

“I’d rather go alone and at least continue believing that you’re alive. Listen—“

“Sarah, let’s—“

“No!” There’s urgency in her voice now. “No, Jason, you listen to me. I’ve got it. We’re going to be separated. You can’t die, you’re not allowed to die. We’re separated, but someday maybe we can escape. You get free, you go back to Kansas City. You remember? Home? You go back there and maybe we can be together again.”

There’s a long silence. When he speaks again, it’s almost too quiet for Clint to hear.

“It’s a good idea.”

“I know.”

“I hate it.”

“I know.”

“I can’t watch you go.”

“Well you’re going to. For me.”

It’s quiet for a long time after that.

When the time comes, it’s Ellie who breaks the silence. “Clara.”

Clara doesn’t say anything but he rolls his head over and looks at her. He’s on the bench and Ellie is on the ground, leaning against the bars to the next cell, back to someone else, playing with the hem of her jacket.

“Is anyone you came with still here?”

Clara is mute for a few moments.

“We don’t have to talk,” says Ellie.

“I’d rather,” says Clara. He shakes his head. “They never made it this far. We fought them. They fought them. I’m shit with a gun.” He takes a deep breath. “They lamented…” He’s talking about the slavers now, Clint can tell. “They lamented that I was the one who survived.”

“Well their lamentations are worth dog shit,” says Ellie.

Clara chuckles. “Yeah…” He chuckles again. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“It might not be pretty,” says Clint, “but one way or another we’re gonna get out of here. We have to. We have a mission.”

Ellie looks at him with eyes that say _that’s enough_.

“A mission?” asks Clara.

Clint twists his mouth. “All I’m saying is that when it happens, stay close to us. We can protect you.”

“He didn’t ask for protection,” says Ellie.

“What, he’s gonna stay here? He said he’s shit with a gun.”

“She,” says Clara.

Clint looks at him.

“I prefer she.”

“Oh.” Clint can feel himself blushing. He doesn’t really understand at all. Except what he needs to, he guesses. “Sorry. She.” The dress makes more sense, now.

“It’s going to be bloody.” Ellie’s voice is louder now, so that the rest can all hear her. “Make no mistake. Anyone who’s afraid can stay in their cell. I’m sure they’ll be glad to keep you. People will die.” She looks at Clint. It’s pretty stony. “Trust us.”

Ellie looks over to Clara. Clara sighs. She’s wants out, but she’s scared. Clint gets it. She should never have been put into a situation like this. Ellie reaches out and squeezes her arm. Clara’s brow pinches. It takes Clint a while, but he thinks he gets it. Confusion. Confusion at a little bit of hope.

The sun sets and it starts to get dark in the cells, then there’s some electric buzzing and the lights flick on. A little while later, Anya comes back. She’s got a bag in her left hand and an automatic rifle slung across her torso. Her eyes pass over the cells and she rolls them. She drops the bag on a counter in the center section. A delicious smell drifts to Clint’s nose. Anya pushes a chair into position with her feet, but doesn’t sit down. She starts pacing around the cells, slowly, inspecting each person in them. There’s a… drift, to her movements. Almost a saunter. Clint furrows his brow. He’s pretty sure she took Larry up on a couple of those rounds.

Ellie’s up at edge of the cell, hands on the bars, watching her. When she gets close, Ellie addresses her.

“Hey bitch.”

Anya looks at her, face devoid of amusement. She walks directly toward her.

“Remember when you slapped me?” says Ellie.

When Anya gets to her, she doesn’t say anything, she just raises the gun and plants the barrel right into the indentation at the base of Ellie’s throat. Her face is expressionless. “We don’t like talkers around here.” Ellie’s lips move like she would speak and Anya jabs her with the barrel, silencing her. “Most of these ones have the good sense to recognize that, or can’t you tell?

“Now un _fortunately_ ,” she continues. There’s a very slight slurring to her words. “I’m stuck with you all night. And it’s going to be a quiet one.” She puts on a nasty fake smile. “Okay?”

Anya finally retracts her gun, and turns to leave.

“How’d you join them?” asks Ellie. Anya turns back to her in disbelief. “I bet you got picked up. Too ugly to sell.”

Anya closes in on the bars. Her eyes are pretty dangerous. “I can literally kill you, for any reason I want. All I have to say, is that you tried something. You dumb, fucking bitch. So shut. The fuck. Up.”

Ellie smiles. “When I get out of here, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Anya is just shaking her head. “No, you aren’t.”

Ellie laughs. Anya’s eyes go even wider.

 _Jesus, Ellie, what the fuck are you doing_?

“You’re right,” says Ellie. “I lied. It’s gonna happen before.”

Ellie reaches out, grabs the sides of Anya’s head, and begins slamming her face viciously into the bars.

“Holy fucking shit!” someone says.

Anya goes immediately for her gun, but her head is hitting the steel so brutally her hands go up to try to break Ellie’s grip. Ellie’s entire body is rocking back and forth, generating force. Anya’s head is making a horrible, fleshy sound over and over. _Wham, wham, wham, wham._

And after a few seconds, she goes limp.

“Oh my fucking god!” someone else says.

“That’s right,” says Ellie, as if comforting her. Still holding her head, face all bloody, Ellie begins lowering her to the ground. “That’s a good bitch.” She reaches out and detaches the key ring from her belt.

“Oh my god, she actually did it!”

Ellie fumbles with the keys for a while. She keeps looking furtively at the entrance, but there are no sounds yet. It takes a while, but eventually she finds the key, and the cell opens. She immediately turns and throws the keys to Clint. “Open the cells. Now.”

Clint clutches the keys to his chest. He realizes his mouth is hanging open. He starts moving. Ellie is rummaging fiercely through the center counter area and all its shelves. She keeps cursing. After a couple cells, he realizes there’s numbers on the keys. It helps.

Most people come out of the cells, some don’t. Some are excited but they keep getting hushed. There are still no sounds of alarum from the entranceway. When Clint is finished with the first floor, he hears someone call him. It’s a guy on the upper walkway, he holds out his hands, and Clint tosses him the keys.

“Where are the guns?” It’s Ellie. She’s not asking anyone in particular.

“Upstairs.” It’s a haggard man, thirtyish. He’s got brown hair and a blue plaid shirt. “That way, you can hear them talking about it.”

“Jason!” It’s a pretty, blonde-haired woman of about the same age in blue jeans and a green jacket. Sarah.

“Babe, it has to be now.”

“This isn’t safe!”

“Clint!” Ellie is getting his attention, she’s annoyed with him. When he gets to her she grabs his arm and pulls him in, whispering in his ear. “We are not leaders. We get out. That’s plan A through Z. Now move. They can follow if they want but we do not die for them.”

Clint nods.

Ellie leads him up the iron-grate spiral stairs on one side of the room. They step carefully, trying not to make their feet clang.

“Where’s she going?”

“To get the guns, dumbass! Follow her!”

There’s an exit hallway on the second floor as well. They follow it. Ellie’s shoulders are hunched, and she’s loping. She is in maximum fight mode. This is so sudden. Clint is not sure what mode he’s in. But he knows what mode he needs to be in. He sets his jaw.

They turn a couple corners and reach an intersection, but at the end of the hall there’s a blue, metal door with ‘ARMORY’ stenciled on it in black. Ellie walks right up to it, pulling out a key she apparently removed from the ring at some point. She turns the lock over and pushes the door open.

Thank god, there’s no one inside. There are four vertical racks with all kinds of mismatching guns, there’s a long counter in the back with parts and tools, and a long horizontal case on the left wall. There’s probably a couple hundred guns in here. Ellie looks over the racks for a minute, then sees something in the corner that catches her eye. She walks over and picks up her pack, inspecting it. It hasn’t been sorted yet. Her guns are even still on it. Clint can see his axe. He goes over and shoulders his own pack.

Others are following them into the room, not being as quiet as Clint would like. They start grabbing long guns.

“Ammo over here,” one of them says. Jason is there.

Ellie pushes past them and goes out into the hallway. A crowd is forming at the end, less certain than the men grabbing guns. Clara is there, holding her elbows. One of the guys comes out of the armory with a handful, he starts handing them out. Sarah is standing by the wall, shoulders bunched and arms wrapped around her. She looks at them, but Ellie doesn’t acknowledge her. Ellie speaks to him as if it’s just them. “Still a chance to get out of there before this gets loud. Which way?”

Clint’s about to point left when Jason comes out of the armory.

“I found a nine millimeter.” He gives it to Sarah. Her hands wrap around it and her shoulders loosen up a little. Jason looks at Ellie. “Which way are you guys going?”

“Separate,” says Ellie. She walks off to the left.

The building is pretty big, but quiet so far. The straight lamps cast a sickly white light over all the ugly blue tile and ratty brown carpet. They pass a bunch of dark offices. They’re approaching a four way intersection when they finally hear voices. Ellie holds up her hand and they all stop. A bunch of people are following them. The voices become clearer.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Kenny said he heard something. Footsteps or something.”

“Like Anya?”

“No, a _lot_ of footsteps.”

Jason whispers. “What do we do?”

Two guys turn the corner in front of them. They both have rifles like Anya’s. They pull up, stunned.

Ellie levels her gun. She shoots one in the head, and the other in the chest. They both drop. It’s quiet again.

“Holy shit, they’re dead.”

“This chick is as cold as ice!”

Now they can hear distant yelling.

“Move!” growls Ellie.

They run to the intersection and look around. Fucking building is too big. There’s windows, but they’re still on the second floor. The voices grow louder, and a couple more turn the corner off to their left.

“Shit, they’re armed!”

“Fire!”

They raise their automatic weapons and bullets start ripping through the air. Someone screams, and the crowd instinctively moves away to the right. Ellie goes straight, out of the guards’ line of sight.

Jason starts shooting back and so does Clint. The guards move back behind the corner for cover. Clint gets one of them in the leg.

“Fuck!”

The other one starts roaring. “They’re in here! They’ve got guns! Ring the fucking bell, _now!_ ”

“Jason.” It’s Sarah. Her arm’s bleeding and he’s shaking, leaning against the wall. Jason runs to her.

“Clint!” It’s Ellie. She’s looking at him like he’s an idiot. Clint looks over to Sarah and Jason. When he looks back, there’s something else in Ellie’s eyes.

 _Too late_.

She turns and starts running. Clint is about to follow her when he hears more footsteps, and three more guys appear the way they originally came from.

“Shoot!”

Clint dives for cover as bullets start flying. He rolls to his feet. He’s next to Jason and Sarah, and a few others. There are bodies down. Clara is there, holding a gun, but she’s terrified. They’re still in line of sight of the first two and Clint knows what they’re thinking. On cue, the uninjured one leans around the corner, raising his gun to provide crossfire, but he meets Clint’s eyes. Clint rips off four shots. They all miss, but the guy pulls back around the corner.

“Advance!” It’s the group of three.

“Move!” Clint roars. “Now!”

They pound the floor, and they’re able to get around the next corner before the guards get a line on them, but they are not far behind. Through windows, Clint can see some kind of interior courtyard, and stairs leading down. One of the guys in the lead pulls the door open and they start filing through. Clara makes it, followed by Sarah.

The guards are going to get a line on them, quick. Clint holsters, reaches into his pack, pulls a grenade and the pin.

“Did you just hear—“

“Shut the fuck up! Move with me! Ready?”

They’re right around the corner. Clint hurls it, and it bounces off the wall out of sight.

“Oh _fuck!_ ”

The explosion is deafening in the hallway. Dust and plaster fill the air, and a spurt of blood trails up one of the walls.

“Jesus!” says someone. Then there’s shooting in the courtyard. Feet pound the pavement.

“Fuck, more of them!”

“Come on!” It’s Jason. He’s holding the door for Clint. Clint starts moving, then sees someone down the hall from Jason.

“Well that was real cute.” It’s the older man. Reg. He’s holding a shotgun at hip height. He aims at Jason and pulls.

“Shit!” Jason twists through the doorway at the last second. Pellets bounce off the open metal door and Clint a can hear Jason fall down the stairs. Reg looks at him and aims.

At the last second Clint grabs the open door handle and gets behind it for cover. There’s another boom and he can feel the impact against the door. Reg is advancing. Clint’s heart is pounding. He reaches into his pack again. Reg must put two and two together, because he charges. Clint retracts his hand and rounds the door just in time to receive him.

He seizes the shotgun with both his hands. Reg’s face is red with rage. He spits and Clint turns. It lands on his cheek. He wrenches the gun but Reg is fucking strong. They struggle for a second. Reg rears back for a headbutt, and Clint runs right into it.

The impact hurts like hell and blurs his vision. His glasses go flying off. But it does the trick and Reg lets go of the gun. Clint lands on his ass and hurls the gun behind him. A decision he instantly regrets.

Reg’s face is bloody and he’s half stunned. He looks at the tossed shotgun, then at Clint. As Clint gets to his feet, he reaches back and pulls out a sledge hammer. Clint has just enough time to pull out his axe to block Reg’s first blow with both hands. He can feel the impact down to his feet. He cannot keep that up forever. He shoves Reg off and takes a swing. Reg takes a step back and it’s enough time for Clint to run through the still-open door to the courtyard.

The landing isn’t that big, maybe eight by eight feet. He can hear Reg coming and turns. He jumps back, just clearing a whistling blow from Reg’s hammer that probably would have shattered his ribs. Reg has an ugly smile on his face. He swings the hammer again, but not with full force. Clint dodges. Reg is feeling him out. Clint feints him. Reg moves, but not dramatically. He steps into an easy stride and they’re circling.

Clint can’t say why, but he doesn’t see him winning this fight in melee. There’s a gun in his bag, but no time and the one in his holster fell out at some point. He can feel the weight missing on his leg.

“You kill my men,” Reg growls. “In my prison. Mm.” He shakes his head. He’s wearing an evil look. “You should know I extract a price. For every one.”

Clint glances down the stairs. The courtyard is quiet, the fighting is elsewhere now. Jason is collapsed in the corner landing. There’s a lot of blood.

Reg advances and levels a mighty overhand swing that might shatter Clint’s handle if he tried to block. Clint stumbles backward and pretends to fall down the stairs, half-sliding with his hand on the railing. He lands on Jason.

Reg still has a gun but he doesn’t pull it. He hops down the steps gingerly with a wide smile. When he’s close enough, Clint drops the axe, reaches over, and shoulders the shotgun that had been laying next to Jason. Reg’s smile disappears.

“Well, here’s your price.” Clint pulls and Reg’s face disappears.

The older man instantly drops to his knees, falling the rest of the way down the stairs and landing on top of Clint. The newly made gore of his wound is right in Clint’s face. Blood gushes, covering his face in hot, sticky wetness. Some gets in his mouth.

Using every ounce of strength Clint has he throws Reg off of him, pulls himself up to the railing, and vomits forcefully down to the pavement below. He spits and sputters for a few seconds. He uses his shirt to wipe the blood from his eyes. He’s panting. He looks at Jason. His eyes are glassy. He’s gone.

Disoriented and somewhat numb, Clint stumbles the rest of the way down the stairs. He trudges across the courtyard into an open door. There’s no one in the hallway. He walks for a while. At one point, he almost walks into an intersection but he can hear feet pounding his way around the corner. They’re shouting. Around the corner and up the wall he can see a segment of a stair railing. He can see their feet as they pour up the stairs. They’re not aware of him.

In front of him at the end of the hallway there’s a little table with a vase in front of a window. He walks up to it. He grabs the table, lifts it, and moves it to the side, carefully so the vase won’t fall. He looks at the window. He unlatches it, and lifts. It slides open easily. He climbs out.

He’s between the outside of the building and a tall bush that runs around its perimeter. It’s good cover. He crouches and starts moving along the building. He stops. He turns around, closes the window, then resumes. He turns a corner and Ellie is maybe twenty feet away.

She’s hiding behind the bush like him. She turns, sees him, and recoils. She’s disgusted. She beckons him. He walks over to her.

“Jesus, dude,” she whispers. “What happened?”

Clint’s breathing is somewhat steady, but he can’t seem to speak. He keeps clasping his right hand, but it goes right back to shaking. Ellie is frowning at him. She reaches into her pack and pulls out a rag. She splashes alcohol on it. “God, clean yourself up.”

Clint takes the rag, confused for a second. Ellie gestures about her face. Clint wipes his face all over with the rag. It feels a lot freaking better. For good measure, he reaches into his pack. The brandy is still there. He swishes some around his mouth and spits it out. The taste of the alcohol brings the nausea back, but he pushes it down.

He still doesn’t feel like talking so they wait there for a while. Ellie is looking between cracks in the bushes. A couple times a truck drives by, headlights illuminating the bushes for a second.

“Didn’t go too well, did it?” Ellie asks him. She’s wearing a kind of permanent frown. “Back there.”

It makes Clint more than a little angry but he shakes his head.

She gestures to the outside. “They’re scattering. Trying to sneak away, through the city. I can hear some gunshots, here and there. There’s a lot of these bastards. They’re out in their trucks in hunting parties. They’re methodical, which is bad for them.

“The next time I see a truck drive up that road, we’ll follow them. They won’t come up that way again for a while. We get to the horses, and we’re clear.”

Clint nods. He’s feeling tired. He’s ready for this night to be over.

It happens like Ellie called it. Maybe thirty minutes later another truck comes and drives up that road. She crawls under the bush and he follows her. They have to creep through the front yards of all the houses. There’s good brush cover, but they don’t need it. They can hear more infected, but they’re all behind walls. The whole thing probably only takes an hour, but it might be the longest hour of Clint’s life. The horses are sleeping when they get to them.

“Thank god they didn’t find you,” says Ellie, walking up to Eddie. She’s finally starting to look relaxed. Eddie’s eye cracks open. She goes on talking to him, more quiet. As he starts to rouse, he makes anxious noises and tosses his head. “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry.”

Clint goes over to Starbeam, untying her. “Hey girl.” They weren’t supposed to be here for so long. There’s plenty of grass for them, but no water. They’ll have to get them some, as soon as they can. He still feels bad for them. He looks. Ellie seems preoccupied with Eddie. It’s not really his style, but he… He just…

He wraps his arms around Starbeam and holds her for a minute. Little trembles go through him now and then. She starts making noises and nudges him. “I’m sorry girl. We had a close call, back there.” He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, not wanting Ellie to hear. He lets go of Starbeam and pats her. She’s watching him. It almost looks like concern. “Alright, Ellie.”

She turns to him.

“Let’s get out of here before light.”

“You said it.”

They climb on the poor horses and start walking back up to the foothills. The stars are out in such force they could probably light their way by themselves. There’s a sliver of moon to join them, though.

Sometime later the sun starts to rise, and it gets bright enough to see down into the city. “Hold on, Ellie,” says Clint. He climbs off Starbeam. He doesn’t know what compels him, but he pulls out his binoculars.

“What are you doing?”

“Just give me a minute.” The binoculars are military grade. He has to up the magnification quite a bit, but he can see the streets. He sees a couple trucks moving back and forth. He can see the jail, but it’s impossible to say what’s going on in there. The slavers definitely didn’t lose, though.

Then he sees. They’re tiny, ant-like, but he can make them out. Up one of the empty streets, a woman with long, dark hair, broad shoulders and a maroon dress and jacket is marching, head hanging. Two armed men are escorting her back into town.

“See anything down there?”

Clint lowers the binoculars. He takes a breath and swallows. He keeps his voice even.

“No.”

* * *

_Ellie was right. It’s worse out here than I remembered._

_Those were some of the most evil pieces of shit I’ve ever met. That Reg guy, damn. I’m glad he’s dead, but I’m sorry I was the one who had to do it. The way he went out, god. I want to hurl right now._

_Fuck, I barely held it together that night. Fucking glad I did though. I mean, I’m not sure Ellie really needs me, but I told myself I wasn’t going to fail her, and I’m not. It’s a miracle I found her like that. Lucky for me._

_Holy shit. I mean, that was a hot mess, but we made it out of Grand Junction. With a new lead. We’re actually doing it. Portland. Mom told me once that she went hiking in the Pacific Northwest when she as a teenager. She said it was gorgeous. I’m actually looking forward to it._

_Ellie is brushing Eddie again. Shit, I need to brush Starbeam. Ellie takes such good care of him. They’re… sounds silly, but they’re close, I can tell. Sometimes Ellie gets… like, she’s carrying a lot, and sometimes it weighs on her. She could talk to me, but she doesn’t. I don’t ask. I sense boundaries. But she’ll go straight to Eddie. He’s a good horse. Funny. He’s scared of squirrels! What the fuck? Ellie told me not to tease him about it. Weirdo._

_There’s also… the thing. I hesitate to write about it. Ellie’s sneaky. I can’t be sure she won’t dig this up and read it when I’m off taking a dump. Whatever she said about hers…_

_Right,_ Ellie??

_Did I get you? You have to tell me if I got you._

_So yeah, the thing. It’s under control, pretty much. I won’t let it get bad. Yeah. It’s good._

_Ellie’s been weird since Grand Junction, though. I don’t know what it is. I know I should just ask but she can be prickly, right?_

_Ah, man. Why people gotta have feelings?_

* * *

Ellie squats over the new-made fire. It’s a good camp. They’re a few days West of Grand Junction. Still avoiding trader trails, they’re moving up and down foothills. There are streams and decent tree cover. Little slower going but better than the wide open plains. Today they’re under a grove of tall pines. There’s animal sounds, which means no infected. The air is green, and fresh. It feels really good. Plus she shot a rabbit and Clint found good mushrooms, so it’ll be soup for dinner.

Just one thing souring the mood. She looks over her shoulder. Clint is brushing Starbeam. He’s started doing it more often. Probably because of her and Eddie. Cute. He makes an effort, she’ll give him that.

She doesn’t really want to do it, but the thing is stuck in her chest and she knows she needs to get it out. The fire’s good. Won’t need tending for a while.

“Clint,” she says. He turns to her. She stands up. “Would you come over here?”

He hesitates, eyeing her, but in the end he drops the brush and walks over, hands on his hips. “What’s up?”

“Grand Junction.”

He frowns, not following. “I was there. What about it?”

“You fucked up.”

His frown deepens. His face tweaks as he chews on it. “Well shit, Ellie. The whole thing was a mess. It got ugly, yeah. Had some close calls. But I made it. On my own, practically, like you. So how the hell did I fuck up?”

“When the moment came. The critical one. You hesitated.”

His face firms up and his body goes still. He’s taking it more seriously. “Which moment?”

“I don’t think you need me to tell you which one.”

She can see him standing there, in the middle of the fucking intersection, maximum exposure. She’s being patient, she really is. The time is now. We move or die. She gets his attention. And what does he do?

He looks at Jason and Sarah.

He’s defensive. He doesn’t like the position he’s in but he can’t seem to think of a good argument. “You’re angry because I was worried about a couple people?”

“I’m angry,” she says, closing the distance between them, “because you hesitated. Clint, you haven’t been out here as long as I have. You don’t understand that’s all it takes. One moment. One slip-up. And bang. You’re dead. I’ve seen it happen a hundred times.”

_Mostly on the other end of my knife._

He does that thing where he flexes his right arm. He thinks for a couple seconds. “Those who go alone, will die,” he ends up saying, with ridiculous solemnity. “We were with a group of people, and when that happens, there’s an unspoken contract. We protect each other. I offered Clara my protection.”

“I don’t give a fuck about Clara!” She’s raising her voice now. “We have a _mission_. Or did you forget that?” It takes him a couple seconds to realize she’s mocking him. “But at the end of the day, it isn’t your mission, Clint.” She bares her forearm, showing him. “It’s mine.” She’s getting through to him. She goes ahead and says it.

“And if you’re not taking this as seriously as I am. If I think, for one second, that you are going to get you or both of us killed…” His face is only a foot away. “Then I will ditch you, and you will never, ever see me again.”

His face is still for a few moments. His lip starts trembling. It pulls up in a half snarl. When he speaks, it almost doesn’t sound like Clint.

“How the fuck are you gonna say something like that to me.”

Ellie’s nonplussed for a second. It’s not the reaction she expected at all. She has no idea how to respond and Clint just turns around and walks away, fists clenched.

He’s gone for half an hour.

When he comes crunching back through the underbrush, Ellie is whittling a stick by the fire. The soup’s ready. She doesn’t like this position at all. She was chastising him. Why does she feel like this?

He plops down against a log opposite her. His limbs aren’t as stiff, and he’s not as angry. He looks at her. “Life or death, huh?”

She doesn’t know what he means and she doesn’t respond.

“Nothing gets in the way of Ellie’s mission. _Ellie’s,_ mission.”

It doesn’t feel good, and he isn’t making it easy. But there’s only one thing to say. “That’s right.”

He sighs. “You’re not a very good partner.”

 _Fuck you_. “I know.”

“But I’m not going anywhere.”

The logs crackle under the whistling orange flames.

“And neither are you,” he continues. “Because I’m not going to fuck this up. I’ve decided.” He reaches into his pack and pulls out his tin mug. He dips it into the pot and pulls out some soup. “And when Clint decides something, that something comes to pass.”

“Oh,” says Ellie, relieved he’s lightening the mood. “Well I didn’t realize you’d _decided_.” She pulls out her own mug and fills it with soup. There’s no seasoning at all but it still beats most of their meals. “I didn’t…” she starts, then regrets starting at all. She winces. “I didn’t think you’d react like that.”

“It was personal, for me. Don’t ask why, it doesn’t matter. You said what you felt you needed to. I’m glad you did, you’ve been acting weird for days.”

“No I haven’t.”

“Oh, yeah.” He chuckles. “Must have my eyes on crooked.”

“Weird like how?”

“Weird as in you talk to me like you’re on patrol with that guy you don’t like.”

“Oh, don’t be…” She looks at the soup in her cup. _Damn it, why do you have to be so…_

“What?” He’s looking at her almost in disbelief. “Don’t be so sensitive? Is that what you were gonna say?”

She rolls her eyes. This dude is impossible.

“You’re a butthole,” he says. He gives her another one of his stupid looks. “I’ve decided.”

“Oh no, he’s _decided_.”

“We’re good,” he says. He’s looking at the fire, but there’s some determination there. “No more hesitation.”

It’ll have to be enough.

The mood doesn’t really rise that high. They’re both still feeling Grand Junction, after all. Why did he have to bring up Clara? The soup is good, though. And the stars come out. No clouds today. They call it an early night.


	10. Purpose

The infected are pounding against the door, shrieking. The sound cuts through him like a knife. He’s drooling and he feels like he might throw up. He’s never been so scared in his life.

Bev is there, leaning against the now-closed door. She’s panting. When she turns on him, she’s as scary as the monsters outside.

“What the fuck did I tell you!” She’s so scared, almost as scared as him, but her face is twisted in anger. “You almost got yourself killed!”

He’s trembling and crying. “Don’t cry!” she snarls. She comes and leans over into his face. “You listen to me, Clint.”

He wants to throw up but he’s trying not to. He wants to cry but he’s trying not to.

“If you ever do that again, if you don’t listen to me, if you put me and mom in danger…” She’s panting hard. She’s so scared. She doesn’t want to say it but she makes herself. “Then we’ll leave you.”

He starts wailing and she pulls him into her arms.

* * *

Clint shudders in his sleeping bag, uttering a painful sound. His stomach lurches and he covers his mouth with his hand. His eyes are wet.

It’s that one pain, running up and down the left side of his chest. He feels awful, but he just sits there and breathes for a minute, until it starts to go away.

God damn it, he really didn’t want Ellie to see that. He looks. This time, she’s actually sleeping. He sighs relief.

Of course he would have that dream, after their conversation yesterday.

God, he had been so pissed. Ellie’s smart and a good survivor, but she obviously doesn’t fucking get it. It’s bad out here. He’s starting to remember. He hadn’t realized he had tried to forget, in Jackson. And when it’s that bad, and it’s just the two of you, the other person’s life is about as important as yours. And she acted like she didn’t give a fuck.

God, what did all that time alone do to her?

He looks over. She’s not dreaming. Features all slack. She looks totally different. She looks five years younger. She looks like someone he should be taking care of, not the other way around.

He decides to stop looking and lays back down against his pack. He’s pretty sure he’s not gonna get back to sleep.

He doesn’t.

Ellie rises wordlessly around dawn, like usual. They have their cold breakfast, but Clint rebuilds the fire for coffee. Ellie makes her noises, but she doesn’t argue.

And soon enough, they set off on their long road.

They’re coming on mid-Winter and it’s real cold in this part of the country. No snow around them at the moment, but it’s not far away. He can see patches under bushes and nestled against tree roots. Sky is a bright blue and it’s gorgeous. They get a bit of sunlight through the branches here and there. It’s bright, but not very warm.

“It’s not that I don’t care,” says Ellie out of nowhere. She looks at him. “About all those people.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” She glances casually around at their surroundings. She’s wearing a serious look. Clint pegs it as a bit defensive. “I’ve dealt with a lot of assholes out there. In a lot of situations. A _lot_. There are a lot of sides to survival. But one of them, generally, is becoming an asshole yourself.”

“You’re not really an asshole, Ellie,” says Clint.

She appraises him. “If it walks like a duck…”

“You’re not,” he repeats. “The kind of person I’m thinking of… You have to keep motive in mind. What’s your motive?”

She doesn’t respond at first but he waits for an answer. “The cure.”

“Exactly.”

The horses plod over the loam. They’ve got their winter wools on, but he still figures they have to get cold. He rubs Starbeam’s neck.

“I wanted to help Clara, Clint.” It comes out pretty quiet. “I wanted to help Sarah and Jason, too. But I knew I couldn’t guarantee anything.” She looks at him. She’s not angry. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

His stomach turns. He feels some anger come on, but he can’t argue. He sits with it for a while, and eventually he has to admit she’s right. That’s exactly what he had done. He can see Clara’s face again, touched by a rare and unusual hope.

_Fuck. I’m sorry, Clara. I’m really fucking sorry._

His fists clench the reins. This is no joke. From now until it’s over, the mission is everything. And it’s his mission too, whatever Ellie says. If this thing is remotely possible, he owes it to Clara, to May, and to everyone else. Nothing can be allowed to get in their way. It may cost him his life.

He tells himself he’s prepared to go that far.

“So on that note,” says Ellie, “were those guys dicks, or what?”

“Massive,” says Clint.

“I’ve actually never dealt with legit slavers before. Can you imagine that? Takes a special kind of person to make a living that way. They got what they deserved. Them and that old prick who was bossing them.”

“Reg,” says Clint. He takes a swig of coffee and wipes his mouth. “I killed him.”

“Whoa, seriously? Sick dude!” Ellie actually slows Eddie down to give him a high five. He smiles a little. “How did you do it?”

“It was… It was kind of a long fight. And messy. Honestly, I’d rather not say.” Clint is looking at the soil, remembering and not liking it. He looks at Ellie and gestures to his face. “He was the…”

She makes a grossed out face. “Eugh, that was freaking nasty. Did you bite his throat out?”

“What? No! God… You were really gonna do it to that guy, though.”

“He’d have deserved it.”

It’s as good as an admission, but he puts it to the side. “Yeah… I wanted to kill him, honestly. I told him he’d regret it after he knocked you out.”

“He doesn’t,” she says. “But he doesn’t have to worry about regrets anymore, because he’s dead.”

“Nice,” he says. But it doesn’t feel that nice.

They ride on for a while in silence.

“You’ve been up the way we’re going before,” says Clint. “Or thereabouts. You have any kind of plan on how we’re going to get there?”

She screws up her lips. “We can take some of my old paths. Some of the way. Never been near Portland.”

“Know anything about it?”

“Not a clue.”

“You said it was too close to Seattle.”

She doesn’t respond for a few seconds. “It is.”

“Seattle was bad, huh?” He’s pretty sure he’s treading on thin ice. He won’t push it if she doesn’t answer.

It seems like she’s not going to. Then she takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Yeah, Clint, it was really, really bad.”

He’s trying to think how to respond when she just starts going.

“Joel had just died, back then. I watched it.” She looks at him. “Anyone tell you that? I know there were rumors.”

He nods.

“Well I did, and it was worse than anything you can imagine. I told myself that if I could just kill her, then everything would be better. I was wrong, but I believed it because I was desperate.

“I went to Seattle, and I killed a lot of fucking people. Most of them were assholes. Some weren’t… I almost got Dina killed.” Her voice is quiet. “Before she had JJ.”

Clint lets the silence reign for a while.

“What was it like in Seattle?”

She takes another breath. “It was one of those cities where FEDRA lost and a worse organization took over. Then there was some kind of… there was like a woman who started a cult or something. The WLF—wolves, they call them—they kill the woman. Then she’s a martyr, and her followers turn into killer fanatics. It was basically an ongoing war. So many people were killed…”

“Sounds awful.”

“It was.”

“Nothing you just described was your fault.”

“No,” she says. She looks up. There’s a squirrel in one of the high branches above them. “That would fall at the feet of Cordyceps. And people, I guess.”

“Let’s hope Portland is in better shape.”

She scoffs. “You better pray.”

They had done the math. Portland was about eight hundred miles away. It would be late Winter by the time they arrived.

Damn it.

He’s going to run out of coffee.

* * *

_I’m starting to trust Clint a bit more. I didn’t expect his reaction when I got on him about Grand Junction at all. I’ve decided it’s good, though. He’s obviously taking it seriously. Just not quite seriously enough, not yet. He said he got mad because it was personal somehow. I wanted to tell him afterward, to explain. I just couldn’t. That the only reason I said it is I’ve watched a lot of fucking people die, and I’d rather not add him to the list._

_Well, either way, I must have satisfied him because he’s pretty much back to his regular self. Half_ I’m a very serious adult _, half roll-my-eyes goofus. He’s funny, sometimes. Most of the time I just want to throw something at him. Sometimes I do._

_We’ve cleared Utah and are making our way into Idaho. Been quiet. Good. Had a couple snowstorms, but nothing that’s pinned us down. Not much in the way of game, but fair forage. We’ve stuck to forested regions. Horses are good. Eddie’s not fond of the cold, though. Big guy. I give him kisses when Clint’s not looking. Starbeam sees though. She’s jealous._

_We’ve dipped into a couple towns. Standard infected, but no mishaps. Clint’s good with a gun, but he can’t pull a bow for shit. I’ve spent some time teaching him. He’s plenty strong, but he doesn’t have the muscle memory. Give him time._

_There was this one time, though. We were just walking down the street, horses tied up. I just walk in front of this little house. Tiny house. And the door blasts open and infected come running out. Must have seen me through the window or something. They charge me and I start shooting. Clint gets in between me and them, almost in my line of fire. He starts shooting… It’s over pretty quick. Afterward I’m like “What the fuck!” He looks at me like I’m crazy._

_Asshole. He’s all “We have a mission, or did you forget that?” He says he can die, if it comes down to it. But not me. I actually got mad, but not for that long._

_He wasn’t wrong. Still pissed me off. Partly because that doesn’t feel good, after everything I’ve seen and been through. Also. It’s hard for me to believe he’s actually… that he’s actually that committed. I mean, who could ask that of someone._ Die for me. _I fucking couldn’t._

_Shit, sometimes I really think that bringing him was a mistake. That it wouldn’t be more merciful to leave him behind. He could never track me._

_Then I remember how he reacted when I actually threatened to do it._

_When it comes down to it. It’s my prerogative. My choice._

_And I guess it’s his choice too._

* * *

_Well, we’re rolling._

_Ellie still acts like she’s twice my age, but she trusts me a little more every day. After going through the movements a number of times, we can communicate using a lot less words. See a runner at the end of the hall, but it’s looking my way and she went the other way, so I wait. Sure enough, she comes around the corner, knifes it, doesn’t even look at me, and we keep going._

_Very few people I’d patrol with that I would trust to have Ellie’s level of stealth. Or decisiveness. Or viciousness, when necessary. And none of them would I expect to have it all. Ellie’s the real deal. It’s not surprising she could survive out here on her own anymore._

_Except what she said is true for her, too. One mistake. And when you’re on your own, there’s no one to fall back on. I’ve seen clickers get the drop on her. Any town we pass through—and it’s not many, minimal risk—any town we pass through she could get sniped right off Eddie. What’s she gonna do, then? Patch herself up, and fight them off at the same time?_

_I don’t know. If anyone could survive something like that, it might be her. But I’m not going to let that happen. Sooner or later, she’s gonna get it. That we’re better together._

_Sometimes I wonder… I wonder if…_

_Damn, I really don’t want to write it because I’m still not convinced she won’t read this thing. She’s sneaky._

_Sometimes I’ll see her. She’ll be up on a vista or something, surveying the landscape. She’s got this, prominence, this independence. Like it’s just her and she’s scouting for her own survival. Cold and sure as the wind blowing over us. She has this look in her eye and damn it I can’t put it into words but I worry about her. There’s like a… finality in this journey for her. And I don’t know how I sense that, but I do._

_She acts strong, and she is, but how many more hits can she take? I’m not even sure we waited long enough in Jackson after Tommy. Sometimes she’ll say some pretty not nice stuff about herself. She’ll say it like she’s joking, but it’s not really funny. Not to me. It’s there, in the implied words and the things unsaid. She acts like she doesn’t like herself very much. So I try to like her for her._

_Well, Ellie, if you do read this I’m not taking it back. Maybe we can have an actual conversation about it._

_Also, the thing. Definitely not under control. Manageable, though. It’s not… it’s not an_ affliction _, not yet. I’m alright._

_I think we’ve crossed the Oregon border. Not that borders really matter anymore, but we’re getting there. Plenty of snow and it’s fucking cold, but it’s been quiet and that’s good. Mountains rise up and pass by us. All capped in bright white, like pure flour. The trees are endless. Huge and green, to offset the blinding whiteness of the snowfields. Now and then we pass over a stream, crystal clear and endlessly chattering._

_Mom was right. It’s gorgeous out here._

* * *

Portland doesn’t look so good.

They found a small hill East of the city, so they can see over the trees that have reclaimed the land around them. Portland is in the distance. A dark blue line, the Columbia River, rolls through the landscape and between the tall steel walls around the city. There are a lot of trees, on both sides of the wall, but they can see the suburban tracts, and some tall buildings off to the left.

The FEDRA wall is there, but there must have been some serious warfare at some point, because the wall is destroyed at several points. Should give them easy entry at least. Also, maybe if the infected aren’t trapped inside, there won’t be as many.

 _Wishful thinking_.

They had wended their way through the outlying cities. They briefly considered the river, but they didn’t have a boat for the horses and it’s probably really well guarded.

Ellie’s nerves started to come back as they drew closer. Major cities are the most dangerous places left. She didn’t mind in Seattle, and New York, but now she has something she needs to do, and she’d like to do it in the least dangerous way possible. But here they are. The base is in Buckman Elementary School. Closer to downtown than she’d like. They picked up a city map at a grocery store a while back.

“Steady as she goes,” says Clint. Starbeam is munching on the grass under them.

“Think you need to tell me?”

“You’re nervous, right?” he asks.

She gives him a long look, but in the end she concedes. “Of course.”

“You’d be stupid if you weren’t. And you’re a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them.”

She just nods at that. She doesn’t really have a reason, but she doesn’t feel like moving yet.

They’d passed a mountain a day back. Mount Hood. Oregon is a pretty flat region but Mount Hood stood above the snowy forest imperiously, peak making a proud point into the gray sky. It was beautiful.

“I think I’d like to check that place out before I die,” she had said without thinking.

“Huh? That mountain?”

“Yeah. Cool, right? Looks like Mount Fuji.”

“Never seen Mount Fuji, but I like it.”

“See how this goes. Maybe we can stop by there after or something.”

“I’m game.”

Now she hears a rustling and she looks over to see Clint eating some of the nuts he found. He offers her, but she shakes her head.

Dude’s always eating. He grazes like the horses. She pointed it out one time, and he had flexed his arm and said ‘Gotta feed this, right?’ He likes to do that, and like the times before, she’d responded with a scoffing laugh.

“I like that one on the left,” she says, pointing to one of the openings in the wall.

“Fine by me.” His eyes are scanning the land in front of them. He’s pretty vigilant. Good.

She doesn’t say anything else because nothing else needs to be said. She nudges Eddie into a walk and they keep going.

From the fences and tractors and farmhouses, she can tell this area used to be farmland, but it’s back to being forest, now. They cross several paved roads, asphalt pale and almost cracked out of existence, but they don’t follow them. This area wasn’t densely populated, and they hear infected only a couple times, in the distance. Where there going, though, it’s going to be different.

They talk about tying the horses up outside the wall, but they’re still miles from their destination. The wall, when it emerges from the trees, is about twenty feet tall, like in Seattle. This one is crisscrossed steel bars, though. You can see through, but again, it’s mostly trees. Suits Ellie.

“Holy shit…” says Clint. It’s probably his first time seeing something like this.

At some point someone drove an incredibly heavy vehicle, probably a tank, right through the wall here. The bars are all ripped and stretched. It also took out a vertical beam so the damage goes all the way up the wall. It’s why they could see it from so far away. The ground is still torn up but they’re able to walk the horses over the concrete foundation. Their hooves clack over the stone.

She gives Clint one more look, just in case he’s not with her. He returns it.

“Max caution, here on out,” he says.

“Max caution.”

The trees continue for some time, then all of the sudden they’re in a city.

The pavement of the interconnected streets broke the advancement of the trees. There are lines of houses, yards full of bushes. All dark. All quiet. They walk the horses up the yards, to minimize the sound of their hooves. They have to jump a few low fences.

The suburbs are good, offering a lot of cover. Sometimes they run up against a commercial area. Shopping centers and parking lots. Neither one of them like it, so they turn around and go a different way.

The sun isn’t out. The sky is a gray sheet. The asphalt is wet. It must have rained recently. Ellie hopes it doesn’t start back up. They pass under a tall, bright green pine. It’s beautiful. When Ellie looks back down, Eddie’s ears are twitching. She frowns.

“Clint, have you seen any squirrels lately?”

“What?”

She sees something out of the corner of her eye, in a window. She looks, and she sees it again. It’s the glint of a scope.

“Clint!”

A shot cracks out and she feels an impact by her leg. Eddie screeches. She can see blood run down his side. “No!” she screams. There’s another crack and it hits Eddie in the chest. He falls on his side and Ellie is thrown clear. She rolls to all fours. “Eddie!”

Clint is just a few feet away. There’s a van between him and the gunman. He’s urgently trying to keep Starbeam calm. He wide eyes are locked on Eddie. “Ellie, get over here!”

She goes to him but she looks right back at Eddie. He’s on the ground, thrashing. There’s another shot and it hits him in the neck. “You bastards!” she screams.

“Ellie, get on Starbeam, we have to go.”

She takes some heavy, fast breaths. Eddie is looking at her. She doesn’t think. She pulls out her magnum, walks over, and puts it on his temple. Clint curses and she can hear him rip off some shots for cover.

Eddie is making a wimpering sound. He’s in a lot of pain. His big brown eye finds hers. It says so much, like it always has.

“I love you, buddy,” she says. She pulls the trigger.

Not a second after she gets back behind the van does a bullet rip past right behind her. One of the men yells something. Another one not far away answers.

“Ellie!” Clint is extending his hand. She takes it and gets on back of Starbeam. As soon as they clear the van, Ellie rips a couple shots at the window. The man curses and ducks inside. “Die!” she shrieks as Clint brings Starbeam to a gallop.

Some bullets chase after them but they don’t find their mark. The men are on foot and soon they’re clear.

The frigid wind cuts painful lines down Ellie’s face as they ride. Warm tears run across her cheeks. Her teeth are clenched. They ride for probably a mile. They cut through a cemetery, headstones mossy and overgrown under the shade of tall pines. They pass through an open field. Ellie sees a soccer goal, and then playground equipment. She looks up, and there through the trees is a huge, two story red brick building. A school. She remembers the cemetery on the map and it clicks. This is it. Buckman Elementary.

Starbeam is panting. “Easy girl, easy,” Clint says, “We’re okay now. We’re okay.”

Ellie climbs off of Starbeam, dropping onto the wet grass. Her gun is still in her hand. She doesn’t really know what she means to do. She takes two steps toward the building and her knees give out. Her legs hit the ground and she immediately feels the cold wetness through her jeans. She moans involuntarily.

“Shit, Ellie!” Clint jumps down to her. He hesitates, then he grabs her shoulder. “Ellie… I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

He keeps saying it and she hates everything but she doesn’t push him off. She’s grimacing so hard her face hurts and the tears are pouring down. She keeps sobbing, and it hurts bad every time.

Some time later, she has no idea how long, she huffs some strength back into her chest and forces herself to stand. “Get inside,” she says. Her voice is gravelly.

Clint has that dumb, useless worried look but he listens to her. He walks up to one of the windows. He tries a couple but they’re locked. One on the end is broken out. He turns on his flashlight and takes a look inside. “Looks clear…”

He looks at her for some fucking reason so she just walks up and climbs through the window. She cuts her hand on the way in.

She sucks on the cut and surveys her surroundings. She’s in a class room. Some of the desks are overturned but mostly it’s pretty untouched. Everything is covered in dust. She walks over to the door and listens for a second, then opens it.

There’s a hallway full of lockers running in both directions. It’s dark, but light streams in from one end, where there are several doors with glass panels. She walks toward it. It’s dead quiet.

When she gets there, she sees what she was afraid of. There’s a fold up table with a couple chairs behind it, facing the entrance. There’s a filing cabinet next to it. On top of the table is a little lockbox, some pencils, and a bunch of scattered papers. Everything is covered in dust.

“What is that?” Clint asks.

“A checkpoint,” her voice is low and tired. “This is where you sign in and out.”

“Everything is covered in dust.”

 _No fucking shit_. She looks at him and he goes quiet. She says it. “The Fireflies are long gone.”

He takes a couple steady breaths and holsters his pistol. “From this place.” He turns and starts looking around. After a few moments, Ellie follows suit.

The classrooms on the first floor are mostly unused. They were using the gym for storage. There are a bunch of familiar looking plastic bins and crates. There are some good pills and even some antibiotics. Other than that it’s only useless stuff left.

On the second floor they start finding rooms they were using as offices. In one of them, they find four desks and a radio. Clint walks in right away and starts looking over papers and through drawers. Ellie walks over to one of the desks and picks up a piece of paper, blowing the dust off. It’s a missive about them needing more nuts and washers. She lowers her arm and lets the paper fall to the ground.

They’re not even here. Eddie died for no reason.

She starts crying again, softly at first.

“Ellie?”

She turns her back on him. He leaves her to it.

A little while later she wipes her face and walks over to the radio. The same manila folder is there. She opens it. A few pages deep she finds more frequencies.

“Ellie, we got lucky back there.”

Stunned at first, she turns and gives him a look that makes some of the color drain from his face. He looks away for a second, embarrassed.

“Ellie, they could have shot you. They could have shot you in the head. They could have got me, too. And then…”

“Then at least Eddie would be alive.”

“The fuck, Ellie?”

She reaches down and flicks on the battery cells. The green light comes on and she turns on the radio.

It’s the same story as Grand Junction. She tries each frequency multiple times and no response. It’s the middle of the day, someone should be responding. She feels really tired.

“Ellie.” Clint speaks softly this time. She looks. He’s standing by the door. Someone tacked a note to the wall. He beckons her. She walks over and reads it.

‘To Who May be Concerned with the Fireflies,

‘This station has been abandoned. The so-called Portland Vigilance has been circling for some time. If you ask me, we never should have made regional base in a metropolitan area, but that ship has long since sailed. We have reason to believe that they may finally have learned where we are, or may soon. We will be departing ex post haste in full force. ‘Full force,’ of thirty five men and women.

‘We would have left soon, anyway. Essentially all quarters are struggling. Any military success we were hoping for is looking like a distant fantasy. But Grayson is in charge, after Andersen and Marlene, and he’s as bad about the _cure_ as any of them.’

Ellie stops reading, and her breath stills. They haven’t given up. Or hadn’t. There were only thirty five at the time this was written.

“I think I see that too, Ellie. Keep reading.”

‘He’ll be recalling us to a new primary HQ, I’m almost sure of it. That has not been established yet, we will have to use the phone as we travel. Hopefully signal stays good and we don’t have any malfunction, because we’ll be fucked if we do. But I’m almost positive, due to the tech they’ve acquired, and the relative safety of the position, that we will soon have been recalled to Catalina anyway.’

She doesn’t finish it. She drops her pack on a desk and digs through it until she finds the map of the US. She pores over California. She’s not one hundred percent, but she’s almost positive—

Her finger finds it. Off the coast, near LA. Not even a hundred miles from Santa Barbara.

“Ellie, there’s more.” Clint starts reading.

“I feel comfortable telling you this because if, God help you, you are looking for the Fireflies, that is where I recommend you go. And if you are with the PV, you will not give a fuck. You should know, it may not feel like it, but you are not alone. We would have died out a long time ago if we did not receive a steady trickle of new recruits, falling in from every God-forsaken corner of this country, hungry for a little bit of hope. So don’t give up.

“We have good seacraft, but we are not leaving you any. Good luck finding a seaworthy vessel these days. Sorry, but we need them. I have to see to my troops first.

“And that’s all I have for you. Thank God you have avoided the Portland Vigilance so far, if you have been so lucky. They, like many before them, began as a ‘righteous’ organization, committed to freeing their kin from the ‘tyranny’ of FEDRA. Nowadays, they seem to have no problem lying in wait about the city and waylaying hapless travelers. If you’re to go overland, you have my sympathy and my blessing, whatever that is worth these days. Safe travels.

“Captain James Dunford.”

Ellie’s breaths are coming fast. This is real. It’s still possible. It doesn’t have to be over. Not yet.

“What do you think he was talking about? Phone? We have land lines in Jackson, but that’s clearly not… I know Mackey got a couple of those old cell phones to turn on, but there’s no signal for them to receive.”

“Sat phone,” says Ellie. “I saw them back in Boston.” It’s rare and useful tech that was never made in mass quantity. It would be very useful to an organization like the Fireflies.

“So we go to Catalina?” He’s standing in the doorway, half turned to her. His pack, his axe, his holstered gun. He looks ready. She can see traces of concern on his forehead, though.

“We go to Catalina,” says Ellie.


	11. Nicks

They leave Buckman Elementary from the same window they climbed in. When they get back on Starbeam, Ellie climbs on front. Clint doesn’t complain. Starbeam’s ears keep flicking nervously. She watched Eddie die too. Ellie strokes her neck as they go. She takes them South, hoping that way is less occupied. They can avoid downtown entirely.

It’s quiet for a while. Ellie is not feeling talkative. They have no guaranteed routes out of the city but part of her doesn’t even care. She sticks to the same strategy, moving in the shadow of buildings and the trees. Avoiding pavement wherever possible to minimize sound. Eventually Clint speaks up, in low tones.

“So are we gonna talk, or not?”

“About what?”

“Some kind of plan. A route out of the city.”

“There are no safe routes out of the city. So we just go until someone tries to stop us, or doesn’t. That’s the plan.”

“Okay…”

“You have a better one?” She’s losing her patience.

“No, I don’t, Ellie. Can we talk about how this kind of sucks?”

“Everything sucks, Clint. Talk to yourself, if you want.”

That finally shuts him up.

They’re passing through a more commercial area, with less cover. It’s not ideal, but what is she going to do? She keeps going.

The sky is a gray sheet. The buildings around them are busted, grown over with vines and worn down, but they’re clean. It rains a lot here, she can tell. Then she feels the first drops and it starts to rain right now. She looks up at the sky. A million little droplets swim through the wind like an endless school of fish.

“It’s gonna get cold,” says Clint. “We might need to find shelter. One of us could get sick.”

“We get out of the city,” is her reply.

There’s an open space and a huge, multi-story white building with a bluish glass structures erected on top, geometric and latticed. It’s actually pretty cool. There’s a sign out front that says ‘Oregon Convention Center.’ In front of the sign there’s a statue with people on it. Not thinking, she leads Starbeam toward it.

“Ellie, what are you doing?”

There’s a dignified looking black man in a suit, a young man with rolled up sleeves, and a little girl in a dress. She looks at it for a while. She looks down at the plinth. The rain has kept it legible.

‘An excerpt from a speech by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at the historic March on Washington, Lincoln Memorial, Washington, D.C., August 28, 1963.

‘I say to you today, my friends, that even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. I have a dream that one day… little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today…’

The rain runs in droplets down her brow. She looks up at the man in the suit again. He does look like he has a dream.

“Ellie.” There’s fear in Clint’s voice. “This is pretty cool, but we really, really need to keep moving, okay?” She looks over her shoulder at him. His eyes are pleading with her. His hand is firm on her upper arm.

She finds some kind of smile. “You worry too much.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Do you know who that is?”

“The doctor?”

“Yeah.”

He scratches his head. “Not really, no. I’ve heard his name.”

“When he was alive, things were really messed up for black people. Especially where he grew up. He became a minister and would give speeches and lead marches, trying to fix things. He was a great leader. A lot of people hated him, though. They didn’t want anything to change. They shot him dead.”

“That’s pretty messed up.”

“Yeah.”

She’s looking at the features of his face. She wonders if it’s really accurate. She wishes she could have met him.

“Ellie…” Clint is practically trembling.

She moves the reigns and guides them back on a path South, out of the city.

They continue through the commercial area for a while, past old warehouses with white, ridged steel siding, blotched with rusty patches. In a couple places trees have grown through cracks in the sidewalk, mature roots cracking the cement slabs and pushing them up out of their beds. They cross a huge road covered in abandoned cars. She guides Starbeam around them. In front of them is a railyard. She can tell because there are a long row of warehouse type buildings and a lot of different colored cargo containers. There’s a chain link fence but it’s largely fallen down. She’s debating whether to go around when she and Clint hear it at the same time.

Voices, talking in casual tones, somewhere behind them. They turn as one. On top of one of the warehouses they just passed there are a couple guys. They see each other at the same time.

“Yah!” shouts Ellie. Starbeam must have been ready to run, because she bolts. Clint’s arm tightens around her.

The men on the warehouse start shouting. There’s a gunshot, and the bullet bounces off the pavement a few yards from them. Starbeam jumps the lip at the base of the fence and clears the fence entirely. There are scattered cargo containers to their right, but other than that it’s wide open asphalt until they reach the warehouses. Starbeam’s hooves pound the pavement.

She hears more shouts, to the right. Between the containers she can see glimpses of a group of maybe three looking at them. There are a couple more shots, but the containers provide decent cover. Cover that they are running out of.

Ellie’s teeth are clenched and her lips part. They are not losing another horse. There is going to be blood today.

There are more shouts, now to their left. They’re far away. But they’re coordinating. This is their job.

“Fucking bastards!” she roars. She hears Clint fire off a couple shots. He’s not likely to hit anyone but he might make them take cover.

The first warehouse is probably a hundred yards away. They might be able to make it. Then someone comes out of it.

Ellie’s eyes go wide and she reaches for her gun. The person isn’t holding one though. They look around, it’s a woman. She beckons them urgently.

There’s a rolling door behind her, open wide enough for them to get inside. The woman stands to the side, one hand on the door. They duck under it. Ellie brings Starbeam around in wide circle, slowing to a canter, then a walk, then a stop. The air is quiet other than Starbeam’s panting.

There are five other people in the room. The first woman swivels inside the door and a man lets go of the chain. It slides shut with a bang.

It’s a lot darker in the warehouse, but she can see. She doesn’t have to tell Clint that this could just be a trap. There aren’t any guns pointed at them yet, but Ellie doesn’t holster hers.

“Who are you?” she asks them.

“Who are _you_?” the man by the chain asks.

“Jordan, they’re coming. We have to—“

“Why did you help us?” Ellie asks.

“Because we’re human fucking beings. And those guys are animals—are you gonna put that away?”

Ellie knows she probably looks hostile. She sure as hell ain’t smiling. She holsters her gun. She hears Clint do the same.

“Ellie,” she says.

After a moment, Clint follows suit. “Clint.”

“I’m Sarah,” says the woman who let them in. She has dark hair tied in a ponytail with a kerchief tied around it. It reminds her of Tess. “That’s Jordan. And this is Steve, Jenna, Thomas and Kate.”

Ellie can tell just by looking that they’re all couples.

“Look,” says Jordan. He’s got blue eyes and long, dark hair brushed back, kind of like Jesse’s. “They’re gonna converge on us.”

“Is there a safe exit route?” Ellie asks.

“Not really…” he responds. He eyes Starbeam. “And with a horse? Definitely not.”

“Then we kill them,” says Ellie. She swings off Starbeam. Clint hesitates but does the same.

“You sure?” Clint asks her.

“Kinda fucking sounds like we have to, Clint.” She has no patience for him right now. He sets his face.

“We don’t know how many there are.” It’s Jenna. She’s a pretty brunette with blue eyes and a big, green coat.

“I saw eight,” says Ellie. “There may be a lot more. Doesn’t matter, cause they’re all going to die.”

Jordan frowns. “Is that a fact…” He looks at Sarah. Sarah’s looking back at him in a way that says she does not like how this conversation is going.

She grasps at straws. “We could maybe hide it out.”

“With a horse?”

“Starbeam is not going anywhere,” says Ellie.

“Starbeam?” It’s Steve.

Ellie takes Starbeam’s reins and walks her over to a dark corner. Low visibility. She ties her up, stroking her jowls and giving some quiet, reassuring words.

They’re talking behind her.

“I do not like the odds if there’s eight. Or more.”

“We are not going to be able to sneak out of here.”

“Why did you open the door?”

“You hear yourself?”

“We don’t even have that much ammo.”

“Enough.” It’s Jordan. “Ellie’s right, we’ve got no other choice now. And they do deserve to die.” He looks at her. “You guys good in a fight?”

She looks at him like he’s crazy. “Yeah,” is all she says.

“Good,” he says. “Sarah, stay on me. Steve, get up high somewhere with your rifle. Tom, Kate, find some cover.” He looks at Ellie.

“Strategize all you want. Clint and I will do our own thing.”

He nods.

“One thing,” says Ellie. “Let them get inside before we start shooting.”

“Let them get _inside_?” he asks her.

“If it turns into a shootout, it could take all day. And we could run out of ammo. Neither of those things can happen, since more of them could be on the way.”

He frowns but he gets it. He looks at Sarah.

She makes an exasperated sound. “Let’s fucking get this over with.”

The warehouse is only a hundred feet long or so, but the tall racking is full of old boxes of junk, and the lighting is dim. It’s perfect for an ambush. Or reverse ambush, she guesses.

She gestures with her head and Clint heads toward the back. She takes a side, crouches against a stack of pallets, and waits.

Sixty seconds later, the sounds start.

The rolling door rattles, and creaks as someone lifts it a couple feet with their hands.

“The fuck are you doing?”

She can see one pair of feet, and another walk out of her line of sight.

“Well, they aren’t shooting yet.” He lifts it high enough to climb underneath. Another man follows him in with a sour look on his face. A door in the back of the warehouse opens, and some more enter with a bit more stealth.

“I don’t think they’re in here anymore.”

The first man calls out. “They go out the back way?”

A gruff voice responds from the back of the warehouse. “No.”

The first man frowns then starts looking around. Then his eyes catch on something. He points his finger. “Shit, that’s the fucking horse!”

A bullet rips through his temple.

“Fuck!”

There’s shouting all over the place and a lot of gunshots. The second man comes running up her aisle. She stiffens behind the stack of pallets. When he’s about to pass her, she grabs the back of his collar, brings her knife around and opens his throat in a fierce, slick motion. He gurgles.

“There’s one up top!” More gunshots.

She sees Thomas with his back to the racking. He’s got messy black hair and he’s wearing nerdy looking cracked glasses. He’s scarcely holding it together. He takes a stiff breath and pulls around the corner, aiming his pistol. He’s eyes shoot upward. “Shit!” He stumbles backward and takes a bullet.

“There’s someone up high!” Calls Ellie.

Clint is in a heavy fistfight with one of them. The other guy is losing, though. The guy falls back against the racking and Clint slugs him hard in the jaw, six or seven times. The guy goes limp.

“Clint!” she calls. He looks up, looking at little shell-shocked. “Up top!” She gestures to where Thomas got shot from.

Clint looks around the racking by him and up. He curses and takes cover just in time to avoid a whistling bullet. Bastard is a good shot.

Ellie makes eye contact with Clint and creeps toward the back of the warehouse. There is a ring of windows near the ceiling. He must be in one of them. She peers around the corner. She can see his barrel sticking through one of the windows. Then she notices it’s actually a woman. She notices Ellie and her barrel snaps to her. Ellie’s heart skips a beat.

She hears Clint’s magnum discharge and the woman’s shoulder flies back as she fires. The bullet ricochets off the wall and Ellie feels a burning pain in her calf. The woman falls back. There’s no sound and Ellie realizes she fell off the building. She hears her body hit the pavement.

Ellie creeps down an aisle toward the center of the warehouse. When she gets there, she sees Jordan. He’s uninjured. Thomas is there, holding his arm. There’s a fair amount of blood.

“Guys,” says Jordan. It’s quiet in the warehouse. “Are we good?”

The others filter in from the other aisles. Everyone’s there. Steve waves from on top of one of the racks.

“Damn,” says Jordan. “That was close.”

Ellie can hear something, though. Jordan looks at her, and she gestures for him to continue. He looks confused, but he does.

“We need to start thinking about how to get out of here.”

He keeps going while Ellie creeps to the back of the warehouse silently. When she looks around the end of the racking. She can see one of them watching Jordan and trying to slip away. There’s blood on his forehead and he’s wearing ragged, dirty clothes. He sees Ellie and his eyes go wide. She shoots him in the face, and it’s done.

She walks back to the others. “Now we’re clear.”

Sarah is tending to Thomas. “I’m just going to bandage it for now. We’ll get the bullet out back at the clinic.”

Thomas is pretty pale. Not really the soldier type. Not everyone can be.

“We need to move before more show up,” says Ellie.

“No shit,” says Jordan. He screws up his lips. “We’ll have to go outside, with Starbeam. But there’s a ditch behind the west side of the railyard we can follow.”

“Sounds good,” says Ellie.

They manage to get Starbeam through the man door at the back of the warehouse. It’s still raining, but it’s not a downpour. The sound of raindrops slapping against the pavement is all around them. Otherwise it’s quiet. There are a lot of buildings, but also some long sightlines. They walk across the pavement around a long building that runs along the West side of the railyard. There’s another a huge hole in the fence, and like Jordan said, a long ditch running North and South. It’s lined with small rocks and there’s water pooled at the bottom. Jordan leads them down it, heading South.

They cross another wide road, rain making metallic pings as it lands on the cars around them. They walk into an alley between two businesses. They come out into a small parking lot behind what looks like a vet clinic. Jordan looks at her.

“We’re here.”

* * *

The mood’s not exactly chipper, since it’s cold and it’s too dangerous to build a fire, but they’re safe.

They’ve pushed all the tables in the back room aside and laid out all their sleeping bags. They make room for Clint and Ellie’s. A lot of the tension eases up and they start chatting, like they probably usually do. They’re being way too loud for Ellie’s taste, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Lil’ Tommy finally took a bullet!” It’s Steve. He’s got close-cropped blonde hair and a handsome jawline. He likes to smirk.

“Fuck you, Steve.”

“Be nice to him!” It’s Kate. She’s a cute, skinny little strawberry blonde, even smaller than Thomas. They’re probably about Clint’s age.

“Hey, he’s on painkillers, he’s fine. Maybe now he’ll be able to grow a beard.”

“You’re so dumb.”

They joke around for a while, periodically lamenting the rain, and the lack of a heat source.

“You know what’s fucking sad?” says Jordan. “If they actually did kill us, they’d go through our stuff and find practically nothing.”

“I don’t know,” says Steve, “couple nice shirts. Just with bullet holes and bloodstains.”

“Oh, enough,” says Sarah. She gives Jordan a look. They’re definitely together.

“What?” says Jordan. “Just the plain truth.”

“Well just because it’s true doesn’t mean it needs to be said.”

“Ah, maybe…” says Steve. He eyes the newcomers. “So what about you two? Where are you from? What brought you here?”

Ellie’s about to say they probably ought to keep that to themselves when Clint speaks up.

“Wyoming.”

“Ah,” says Jordan, “the Cowboy State. Heard it’s pretty out there. Pretty empty, too. Bet it gets cold.”

“It does, but we do alright.”

“Yeah? You got a settlement?”

“Is that what you guys are looking for?” Clint asks.

“Well…” Jordan looks at Sarah. She’s got a conflicted look on her face. She sends him a veiled message with her eyes. “Yeah. Basically. Somewhere we don’t have to fear for our lives. Can maybe get a decent meal now and then.”

“Then you should go to Jackson Hole.”

_Seriously, Clint? We don’t even know these people._

“Jackson? Yeah? Wow… Maybe all that empty space is a commodity of its own.”

“I don’t know…” says Steve. “What happens when we get there and they just stick us up for all we’re worth?”

“Stick you up for what?” says Clint. “Nothing?”

Thomas and a couple others laugh at that.

“What’s going on in Jackson?” asks Jordan, more soberly.

“Well, shoot, Jordan, a lot. It’s governed by a good woman. Maria. Sees everything stays in order. Got greenhouses. A variety of tradesmen. On-grid power and plumbing—“

“Are you serious?” Jenna asks, but Clint keeps going.

“Also a substantial wall, guardsmen and patrollers to make sure it stays safe, of course. The population has been growing for some time. If that’s really all you want, I’m not pulling your leg, you should go there.”

Thomas and Kate are whispering excitedly, but Jordan’s inner serious is on the surface now. It’s easy to tell that he and Sarah are the leaders. They consider themselves responsible. “And what does Maria ask in return?”

“I mean…” Clint shrugs. “She’ll put you to work. That’s all. They use these notes for trade. There’s barter too, of course. She’ll jail you if you’re lazy, she did it to Remus a while back.”

At this point Jordan is just looking at Sarah. She looks nervous, rubbing her sides with her hands. She looks at Ellie. “Could you two lead us there?”

“Afraid not,” she replies. “We aren’t headed to Jackson.”

“What’s the matter?” asks Steve. “You guys get in trouble there?”

“No.” Ellie produces her second knife, inspecting it. She pulls out her whetstone. “Just got somewhere to be.”

“You really both in the Fireflies?” asks Jordan. Ellie looks at him sharply. He gestures to her forearm. “You seem a bit young.”

She goes back to her work. “Not as young as I look.”

There’s a few seconds of silence. Clint ends it.

“So where are you guys from?”

“Seattle,” says Steve. Ellie looks at him. “What, you been there?”

“Once,” she says. “Things get bad there?”

He purses his lips. “No, actually. Things were actually getting better.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. After that asshole Isaac got himself killed in the island attack he so cleverly orchestrated, it turned into a sort of… triumvirate situation under Mick, Angela, and Hansen. Mick’s a dick, but the other two are alright.”

“Is the fighting still going on?”

“With the Scars? Hell no, they got decimated in that attack. No one ever sees Scars anymore. They’re either hiding in caves on their island or they left. Good fucking riddance.”

“Steve,” says Sarah.

“What? I mean it! You remember what they used to do to people? You ever see it with your own eyes?”

“Steve,” says Jordan patiently, but firmly. “We get it. That’s enough.”

“If things are good in Seattle, why did you guys leave?” asks Clint.

“Are we telling personal stories now?” Steve asks, eyeing Ellie. She keeps sharpening her knife.

“We left,” says Thomas, “because Steve’s dumb ass got himself in deep shit.”

“Hey now,” Steve says, “who was it that got us out of the city?”

“The hell?” says Thomas. “Like that makes up for it somehow?”

“It was just some light smuggling.”

Sarah rolls her eyes and turns around.

“And you guys all left together?” Clint asks.

“Yeah…” says Steve. He looks up at Jenna, who’s got this patient, knowing smile. “That’s what family’s for. These guys aren’t that bad, despite what you might think.”

“Truly endearing, Steve,” says Jordan.

“I used to know a smuggler,” says Ellie. Clint looks her way. She inspects her knife. The light runs up the edge of the blade, fine as starlight. “He wasn’t half bad.”

“Old flame?” asks Steve.

“More like old man,” says Clint.

Jordan is looking at her and there’s something about it she doesn’t like. He looks back and forth between her tattoo and her face.

“Ellie,” he asks, “when were you in Seattle?”

“I’d rather not say.” There are nicks on her knife she’s never noticed.

“Was it last Winter? Before the big storm?”

“Jordan,” says Sarah. She can tell Ellie is on edge.

“I’d rather not say.”

“Did you come with another girl? With a black ponytail?”

Ellie throws her knife in her pack and gives a Jordan a look that discourages further questions.

Jordan’s face has a touch of wonder on it. He has a disbelieving half-smile. “Holy shit.” His hand comes up and rubs his short beard. “Holy fucking shit. Sarah, it’s her.”

Sarah’s brow is all pinched. She looks at Ellie, then at Jordan.

“It’s the trespasser girl. From right before Isaac died.”

The rest of them turn and look at her at the same time.

“Son of a bitch,” says Steve. “You’re right, aren’t you?”

Clint is frowning, confused. Ellie’s heartrate is quickening.

“Everyone in the stadium was talking about you,” says Jordan. “The guards kept spotting you, but you just kept getting through.”

“Jordan,” says Sarah, “Ellie clearly doesn’t want us talking about the past, okay?”

“They said you probably killed three dozen guys by yourself.”

Clint’s looking at her too, now.

A lot of bad memories are coming up. Ellie’s chest is burning, and icy cold. She’s taking deep breaths, but she’s barely keeping herself together.

She had been right. Portland is too close to Seattle.

“There’s no problem, is there?” asks Clint. There’s no threat in his voice, but they can tell he’s serious.

“Huh?” Jordan is taken aback. “Oh, uh, no. I mean, no, it’s just—I mean shit, she’s kind of a legend, you know?”

“That’s true,” says Steve.

“I ain’t got no problem, didn’t kill anyone I know.”

“Jordan!” says Sarah. “Can you show some goddamn respect? Or should we—“ She shoves his shoulder and he rolls on his back. “—start talking about the people you’ve killed?”

He’s surprised. “Well, damn, Sarah. I didn’t mean any offense…” He probably looks at Ellie, but she can’t be sure because she’s staring at her lap, thinking about her breathing. She glances at Clint. He looks like he wants to come over and hug her, but he’s wise, and he doesn’t.

“No wonder—“ Steve interrupts himself by laughing. “No wonder she gave Jordan that look when he asked if she was any good in a fight.”

“Can we change the subject, please?” says Jenna in a way that says they’re done. She sits down close to Steve, touching him, and gives him a long look.

“Uh…” He scratches his lip. “Well, there is the subject of food.”

Sarah sighs.

“You guys don’t have any?” asks Clint.

“Very little,” says Sarah.

Clint scratches the back of his head. Ellie is looking at him. They cannot just give away their food to strangers.

“Well, we don’t have a lot…” Clint says. He’s so weak.

“Even just a little would help.” It’s Steve, but it doesn’t sound like him. He’s about ready to plead for it.

Clint nods. He digs through his pack. He holds up his bag of nuts. Besides that he must be down to just a few apples. He gives the entire bag and an apple to Sarah. Sarah takes it and walks directly to Jenna, who takes it.

“I don’t need all this…” she says meekly.

“You eat as much as you want,” says Sarah.

Ellie stands up, reaches into her pack, retrieves a bundle of berries and hands it to Jenna. When she thanks her, it’s heartfelt.

“Kate and I found a few cans of food,” says Thomas. His words are slightly slurred. “It’s pre-outbreak, though, so you take your chances.”

They open those up and start passing them around. Ellie’s not feeling terribly hungry, but she does eat almost half a can of garbanzo beans. They’ve never tasted so good.

After that, they lay in the bags, staving off the cold, and talking until it actually gets dark outside. She can tell Clint is really enjoying the company. She doesn’t talk much, but it’s nice to listen. There’s no official lights out. People just drift off while the others talk quietly about the road and back home and dreams and random things.

The last thing she remembers before oblivion is Clint talking about Summer.


	12. Tell Me I Have To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't easy. If you believe in Ellie, believe in the story.

“Well, ain’t that a shit sandwich.”

It’s Jordan, and he’s right. They traveled half the morning with no issues. Even with Starbeam they’ve avoided infected and they haven’t been jumped. If these guys are right and the PV operates mainly on the North side of the river, they could be in the clear. Just gotta cross the Sellwood Bridge.

Which is obstructed by an intact FEDRA wall.

It makes sense, since on the other side of that bridge they’d be completely outside the city.

“Well,” Jordan continues, looking at Ellie. “Any ideas?”

“Yeah, one. We need to get that gate open.”

“Eh,” he scratches his beard. He does that a lot. He should just shave it. “Think we could climb around it?”

“No way, dude! And even if we could, Clint and I are not leaving Starbeam.”

“Yeah, yeah… It’s electric, right? We can see if the generator still works.”

“Jordan, lower your voice,” says Sarah, “we don’t know if this area’s clear and generators make noise, if you haven’t forgotten.”

Ellie lets them bicker over it. She looks at Clint. “Might actually get out of this damn city.”

“Looks that way.”

“Fucking horse killers.”

“Yeah.”

“You good?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you usually eat about a thousand calories by this time of day. Don’t want you fainting.”

“Please. I’m fine. Wish I still had coffee, though. Too damn cold out here.”

The rain has stopped for now, but the sky is gray. It’s bitter cold, too.

Ellie sneaks a glance at Jenna. Thomas is trying to explain something to her. She’s got this sort of confounded look on her face, hands on her hips.

Ellie doesn’t like it. These are good people, they’re fine, but they’re supposed to be travelling alone. More people isn’t a strength right now. It’s a weakness. I mean, things could have gone a lot worse if Sarah hadn’t opened that door for them, that’s true...

“Oh ho ho, we have a live one.” It’s Steve. He shoulders his rifle. He’s looking down the street, the way they came from. Ellie squints. She can’t see any infected. “Under a car, huh? Bastards. We’re lucky, we walked pretty close to that.” He aims for a second, then fires.

There’s an ear-pounding explosion as the IED goes off. Ellie gets chills.

“Steve!” It’s Jordan. His face has lost all humor. Steve meets his eyes, then seems to get it.

They collectively go still. The only sound is the faint wail of the breeze. A piece of paper blows across the intersection they’re standing in at the foot of the bridge.

Then, in the distance, the screams begin.

“Inside,” says Jordan, “inside, _now_!”

“Yah, girl!” Clint slaps Starbeam’s hindquarters and she bolts.

Jordan ushers them toward a warehouse on the south side of the intersection. The gates to the loading area are wide open. Steve swears nastily, presumably at himself. One of the loading doors is open, they should be able to clamber inside. Ellie turns and she can see runners through the chain link. A lot more are coming.

They skid to a stop in front of the loading door and start boosting each other inside, two at a time. Jenna and Thomas are first. Ellie looks back. Through the gate, she can see an infected in the street, wheeling around, looking for life. Its eyes lock on her. It sprints her way. Two more see, and follow it.

“Ellie!” It’s Jordan. He boosts her up in one smooth motion. She spins, grabs his arm, and pulls him up while Sarah gets Steve. The infected are pounding the pavement, more are following the first three. She can see a ton of runners through the chain link.

“I think it’s too high for ‘em,” says Steve.

The infected start pounding on the dock plate below. One of them jumps, and makes purchase on the lip, scrambling to pull itself up. He’s gaunt. Hungry runners are some of the most dangerous infected. Jordan shoots him in the head. But it’s too late, the others are jumping up now, and more are arriving by the second, at the dock and through the gate. There are probably two dozen, with more still on the street.

“Close the door!” Sarah shouts over the gunshots, but Steve is already trying. He is giving the chain mighty yanks, but it’s not budging. “Steve!”

“It’s jammed!” He looks the mechanism up and down. “And damn it I can’t tell how!”

“This isn’t gonna work, guys!” Ellie is shooting too, but the infected are piling up and climbing over each other. They hear screams from inside the warehouse, behind the pallet stacks.

“Damn it!” yells Jordan. “Ellie, look that way for an exit!”

She spins behind the firing line and looks. She can’t see any infected yet, but she hears clicks. The loading area is wide open and empty. At the end of the dock, maybe fifty or sixty yards, there’s a man door to a multi-story office bloc.

“I think we can go this way!” she says.

“Shit!” It’s Jenna, she’s terrified. The infected are getting through, the first one gets to its feet, and more are right behind it. Sarah shoots it in the head, backpedaling. Clint, Jordan, Kate and Thomas are with her. There are infected between them and the others.

“Too late!” yells Jordan. “Shoot while you run!”

Ellie sprints for the door, and she can hear Jenna and Steve behind her. As they go, a clicker staggers its way out of the pallet stacks. It shrieks at them. Then a runner appears, and charges. Ellie manages to shoot it in the leg while running and it goes down. The hungry runners behind them wail horribly. The door is so close. If it doesn’t open, they are dead.

It opens. They push inside, and immediately go to block the door, but the first runner hits it before they can latch it. Jenna and Steve push together to hold them back. There’s a lot of them.

It’s a small room, with stairs up opposite the door.

“Shit, Ellie, help!” says Steve.

“I am,” she says. There’s a small window above the door with the pane broken out. She reaches into her pack for a Molotov and lights it.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he asks.

She tosses the Molotov through the window, takes aim, and shoots it.

Flaming liquor rains down on the infected, and their shrieking takes on a new inflection.

“Shit!”

“What do we do now?” Jenna asks.

Good question. They are not gonna be able to latch it, and the Molotov probably won’t kill all of them. Skeletal hands reach through the crack in the door, scrabbling for purchase.

“Jenna, go to Ellie!”

Jenna hesitates, and Ellie holds out her hand. Jenna comes and Ellie pushes her up the stairs. She looks at Steve. This is bad. He meets her eyes and she knows he’s thinking the same thing. Then one of the hands grasps at his.

“Shit!”

He moves back instinctively, and the door flies open. Stinking, burning infected pour over the threshold in almost a heap. Steve falls on his back next to Ellie, at the foot of the stairs. He hits her leg. “ _Go!_ ”

She slams up the stairs, pushing Jenna in front of her, at the top of the stairs they turn in time to see Steve following behind them, but a runner gets its skinny arm around his neck. He elbows it in the face. One comes in from the other side and sinks its teeth deep into his throat.

“No!” Jenna screams.

Ellie lifts her gun and shoots him in the head before he disappears into the mass.

The runners are feasting, but there are new ones in the doorway, and they see Ellie. “Jenna, move.”

Jenna is crying. “No…”

“Jenna!” Ellie pushes her and she turns around, moaning. Ellie keeps her hand on her shoulder as they run deeper into the building. There is faint blue light streaming in through the windows. It’s dark. They stop at T intersection, a small kitchen breakroom set into the wall.

“Which way?” Jenna says. She looks so lost.

Ellie flicks on her flashlight. She’s about to say ‘left’ when she sees the runner in the kitchen, looking at Jenna. “Jenna!”

It dives over the counter at her, wrapping its arms around her. Ellie shoots, but it hits him in the shoulder. He bites Jenna in the side. She screeches.

The next shot goes into its head. She hears footsteps behind her. She spins and sees two runners coming down the hallway. She shoots them both in the head. She has one bullet left. She can hear more coming.

Jenna is staring in horror at her bleeding side. Ellie grabs her wrist and pulls her. “Come on! Move!”

They run down the hallway but it’s all just offices. They get to the end. There’s a window, and it’s broken out, but the fall would injure or kill them. “In here!” she shouts.

They push their way into the last office on the right, and go to close the door. The doorknob’s broken. It won’t latch. Infected are tearing up the hallway after them.

There’s a large, metal cabinet to the right of the door. Ellie pushes the door flush, grabs the top of the cabinet, and with every ounce of strength in her body, pulls until it falls in front of the door. She almost pulls her back out. The infected are already pounding on the door.

Winded, she stumbles backward against the wall, sliding down it to a seat, panting.

There’s a window. The sky is darkening. She sees a single snowflake drift by.

Jenna is laying there, against the opposite wall, hand feebly covering her bleeding wound. She’s twitching. She’s crying. Her eyes are pleading with Ellie. The infected are slamming against the door, mindless and angry.

“Ellie…” she sputters.

Ellie can’t imagine moving her body. She didn’t even get bit. She’s just watching this thing happen.

“Ellie this can’t happen…” Jenna is begging. She grimaces, tears rolling down her chin. She’s so scared. “I can’t let this happen…”

Jenna’s hand moves to her lower belly. She rubs it, needfully, lovingly.

Ellie is barely there. Her limbs could be cold, rusted iron. But she is there. She is bearing witness. It has to happen, and she says it.

“Tell me I have to.”

Jenna doesn’t speak. Her teeth are clenched. She’s so scared. But her eyes beg her.

Ellie raises her arm and shoots Jenna through the heart.

After the gunshot, the only sound is the rage of the infected. The banging goes on, and on. Virgin snowflakes pass the window in silence. The clouds are dark now. The room is cold. Everything is cold. Ellie’s gun is cold in her hand, but she doesn’t let go. Ellie has no conception of time. She lays there, watching Jenna slumped against the wall in her eternal rest. Ellie is not going to move her and no one else probably will.

Eventually the infected stop, and it’s quiet. And somehow, Ellie finds oblivion.

* * *

The restaurant is bustling. Kids are running around, chasing each other and squealing. The air is warm and bright. The long table is full of people, adults chatting and joking and laughing. They’re all having a good time. There’s a cake in the middle of the table. Ellie is staring at her lap.

They’re all talking but the words mean nothing to Ellie. A piece of confetti lands in her palm.

She looks up, and everyone goes quiet. Someone clears their throat.

There’s confetti drifting through the air. There are colorful streamers hung up above the booths. There’s a banner. It’s a long strip of paper, letters hand painted in many colors. ‘This place is for people who are alive.’

Ellie looks. There’s a black man across the table. He’s older, dignified. He’s wearing a suit. He’s uncomfortable, and avoids her gaze for a moment. He doesn’t want to do it. He doesn’t want to say it, but she’s going to make him. He looks at her.

“I think you should leave.”

Wordless, Ellie gets up, chair screeching on the tile underneath it. She walks to the front door.

The air inside is warm, but through the large glass plates she can see a snowstorm outside, icy and brutal. She lays a hand on the handle and the door does not resist her. She pushes it open, and steps out into the storm.

* * *

Clint sniffs. These damn clouds won’t let up. Hasn’t rained yet today but it probably will. He curses Portland. He curses this whole damn state.

It’s been three days since that shit show at the warehouse. Jordan finally took him aside this morning to talk about leaving. They got the generator going and the gate is wide open. Sarah was too far away to hear them, but she stood there with her arms crossed, watching, concern all over her face. Jordan really worked on him. He said this place is a bad memory now and it’s wearing on Thomas and Kate. Clint told them to go ahead and go. He’s not leaving until he finds out what happened to Ellie.

They found Steve, after cutting down over a dozen runners. Or what was left of him. When they went running into those dark stacks, he was sure they had been the unlucky ones. There were some infected they had to shoot while running, but they had been far luckier than he thought. They went straight to the back of the warehouse and found a man door with a handle, so the infected couldn’t just push it open. They went through and latched it, and were effectively in the clear.

They could hear all the infected, but there were none in sight. They jumped the chain link behind the warehouse and broke into the first townhouse they found. They holed up there, and the raging horde never found them. Eventually it got quiet again.

Starting the next dawn, the others had preoccupied themselves clearing the area so they could get the Sellwood gate open and get the hell out of this city. Clint had preoccupied himself with finding Ellie.

She’s too tough. Like chewing leather. There’s no way she let herself get killed. It’s just… Clint can’t put words to it, but this is another blow and Ellie had been borderline before it all happened. He has to find her. She can’t be alone right now. One day would be too much, he had told himself. Now it’s been three.

He had already searched the entire office bloc where they had found Steve, twice. He’d searched blocks surrounding the area and hadn’t found so much as a footprint. The dusting of snow they’d gotten had melted by the first morning. He found Starbeam in a courtyard, munching on grass. He’d been so happy to see her. He finds himself wishing he could care for her half the way Ellie had cared for Eddie. She’s tied up in the backyard of the townhouse now.

Clint is not Ellie. He doesn’t really want the others to leave him. He can’t imagine going out there alone. Ellie was the reason he’s even out here. Ellie was the mission. Ellie was everything.

He feels the shakes coming on again and he flexes his arm.

There was one room, at the back of the office block. It had been barricaded, hard. He couldn’t get in. It kept gnawing away at him, so he started looking for a way in.

He’s outside the warehouse. The area’s pretty much clear, now. They’d used most of their ammo, and he’d spent a lot of time cleaning his gloves. Up the sheer concrete wall, there’s a sloped roof that you could walk on. He can see the window to the barricaded room. It’s been slid open.

A rain gutter runs up the side of the wall. He tries a few ways, and in the end he uses his axe to bite into it like a climbing pick. It’s difficult and inadvisable, but he actually makes it onto the roof. He finds himself staring at the window, a black square in the wall. He takes a deep breath, and climbs inside.

It’s a small room, like all the others. He can see someone slumped against the wall. Hand shaking, he reaches up and turns on his flashlight.

It’s Jenna.

He comes over to her, squatting down and inspecting her. His hands move carefully over her, reverently. They'd buried what was left of Steve. He’d have to bring her down too. First he sees the bullet wound. He frowns. That doesn’t…

Then he sees the bite mark. And two and two come together.

He looks around. Slowly, carefully. Honestly, he’s afraid of what he’s going to see, but there’s no one else in the room. He stands up. His knees are trembling, then he notices.

The room is covered in dust but there’s one place where the dust is all smudged up. Someone had sat there on the floor, across the room from Jenna. He looks, and he can see the remains of footsteps leading to the window.

He knew. He knew this can’t have killed Ellie. Nothing can kill Ellie.

He does that thing where he tries not to pay attention to what he’s about to have to do, and he reaches down and lifts Jenna up over his shoulder. Her skin is icy cold. He turns back to the window and is about to climb out when something catches his eye.

There’s a desk next to the window. It’s all covered in dust, except for one thing. A single piece of paper, the color of Ellie’s journal.

There’s nothing written on it.


	13. Footsteps in the Snow

Mount Hood stands up in the sky like an emperor. The white point of its peak reaches up like it wants to cut through the gray, unrelenting clouds above. Clint squeezes his glove over Starbeam’s reins. This is it. This is the last chance for him to see Ellie again.

It has to work.

That morning Jordan had taken him aside again. He’s a good man. He’d been patient with Clint. Kind. He said he understood. He said if there was any chance Steve or Jenna were still alive, they’d still be looking for them. But he also said that Clint could drive himself crazy doing this. He said they wouldn’t leave him—Clint had loved him for that—but Clint needed to start thinking about moving on.

Clint hadn’t told him about the blank page but Jordan seemed to get it anyway.

They hadn’t seen a single infected since they had crossed the Sellwood Bridge over the Willamette River. They’d crossed the countryside and were holed up in a little ranger station. They’d even been building fires, and had found more food.

It’s maybe 3:00 PM, and Clint had been on Starbeam all day, riding about the Western base of the mountain. You could call it a hunch, but Clint tells himself it’s a strong hunch.

_I think I’d like to check that place out before I die._

There’s almost a foot of snow here, and it hadn’t been falling. Tracking is plausible. He just has to cross her trail. His coat is barely enough to keep out the cold. He’s missing coffee like a motherfucker, and he’s run out of the food he brought with him. He looks up and sees a gray squirrel watching him from a low branch of a pine. Its tail twitches.

He feels the shakes coming on again. This time he lets it. He bends over, breath rattling as he softly cries.

It can’t be like this. This can’t be how they part ways.

Starbeam stops and starts making noises. He pulls himself together, stroking her neck.

“I’m okay, girl. It’s going to be okay.” Her big brown eye is on him. “I’ve decided,” he says.

She looks unsure, but she keeps going. He takes a deep breath, and wipes a tear from his cheek before it freezes. Jordan hasn’t given up. Sarah hasn’t given up. Starbeam hasn’t given up. And, sure as the second he promised Ellie, Clint isn’t going to give up either.

And when they enter the next clearing, there they are. A long trail of lonely footsteps, in the snow.

Clint freezes. He pulls Starbeam up, and jumps off. He slogs over through the snow and inspects the tracks. The feet are the right size.

“Come on, girl!” Starbeam neighs, and meets him halfway. He jumps on her back. “Come on!” He snaps the rains and she pulls into a canter.

The trail leads right up the mountain. He pushes past branches, snow dumping on him. The trees start to get sparser. There are some steep sections, but Starbeam seems determined. Finally they arrive at a rocky section that he knows she can’t get up. He climbs off. He gives Starbeam some reassurances. She dances anxiously. He strokes her neck, and then he starts climbing. After a few minutes he arrives at a flatter section. He pulls in some icy breaths.

About twenty feet away is a cave. It opens like a black maw, and the footsteps climb right into it. Clint doesn’t know why, but he pulls out his gun.

“Ellie,” he calls. There’s no response. He creeps forward on careful feet.

The mouth widens, but he can’t see far inside, other than a glint from some gleaming rock. It’s deep, more than fifteen feet.

“Ellie, are you in there?” Still no response.

He’s in the mouth of the cave now. He can’t hear or see anything. He realizes he needs his flashlight. He puts his gun away and reaches for it when there’s an echoing gunshot. Something impacts his gut and he feels himself slam back first into the ground.

Stunned, he lifts his head and looks down. There’s blood on his abdomen. Then the pain starts. He lets out a sound between a grunt and a moan.

He hears footsteps, and when he looks again, Ellie’s face is in front of him, brow knitted, eyes scared.

“Clint?” she asks. She looks him over, and sees the gunshot wound. Her eyes go wide. “Fuck. Clint!” She looks at him again. She grimaces, scared and angry. “Damn it, Clint, why did you come here?”

Clint doesn’t respond.

“Damn it,” she’s halfway to crying. “What the fuck am I supposed to do? I can’t…” She reaches behind him and discovers what he can already feel. There’s no exit wound. She must have used her nine millimeter.

Her lip is trembling. This is not according to plan. For once, she’s completely unsure of herself. She looks at him like he needs to explain.

The pain is paralyzing, but he works his lips. Her eyes are locked on him. She’s listening.

“So good at surviving, you forgot how to die, huh?”

She’s a lot of things, and angry is one of them. She’s trembling. She smacks his chest. She does it again.

“God fucking damn it, get up.” She reaches under his shoulder to lift him. He reaches for his strength and finds it. Between the two of them, they get him to his feet. He can stand, but realistically he needs her to support him, and she does, pulling his arm over his shoulder.

“Did you walk here?”

“I rode Starbeam. She’s not far.”

She gets in her pack and ties a bandage around him that will do little but slow the bleeding. She resumes her place under his arm.

“Move your fucking feet,” she says. “I’m not doing this by myself.”

Ellies steps forward and Clint steps with her.

They make their way down the slope. Some of the steeper parts take more time. Ellie keeps glancing down at his wound, a strange look on her face. At one point they have to jump down a short drop and the pain shoots through Clint from his gut to the tips of his fingers. He goes to his knees.

“No, Clint!” Ellie shouts, angry. “Get up. Get the fuck up, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

 _You fucking shot me, asshole._ But Clint does what he always does, and listens. He gets up.

Starbeam is prancing in distress when they get to her.

“Chill out!” says Ellie. Starbeam listens. Her tone changes. “We’re okay, girl. Okay? Don’t be mad at me. We need to get out of here. We need to go.” Starbeam stands at the ready.

It sucks getting on the horse but they manage it, Ellie in front. She looks back at him, and waits for him to meet her eyes. There’s something deadly serious in there. Something personal.

“You don’t get to fall off,” she says, “and you don’t get to pass out.”

Not really having an alternative, Clint nods.

“Where are we going?”

“Sarah and the others are alive,” Clint says. His voice sounds weird. Half there, like he’s sick or something. “I’ll guide you.”

Ellie snaps the reins and Starbeam goes.

It’s a long, blurry, surreal ride for Clint. Every once in a while Ellie asks which direction and Clint tells her. Her voice sounds kind of muted. The edges of his vision are red. The pain comes in waves. It’s getting worse, and the bounce of Starbeam’s gait does not help. He kind of wants to throw up, and passing out is pretty attractive, but he remembers what Ellie said, so he holds onto the pain and it helps him stay conscious. His arms are wrapped tight around her. He can smell her hair.

Eventually, the ranger station is right there. The door flies open and Sarah comes out.

“Holy shit, Jordan, they’re back!” First she looks Ellie over, then she sees Clint and her eyes go wide. “Get out here and help me!”

Ellie climbs down first. Jordan comes out and he and Sarah help Clint get down. They’re pretty much carrying him at this point. Sarah looks a question at Ellie.

“Nine millimeter,” is all she says.

Sarah looks like she has more questions for a second but she turns back to Clint. “Let’s get you inside, okay?” Thomas and Kate are watching from the stairs.

They get him inside and lay him down on his bag. Sarah is relatively calm. She is a nurse, after all.

“There’s no exit wound, Clint.” She starts pulling tools out of her kit. “I’ll have to get the bullet out. But the bleeding is under control and we have antibiotics. Okay? So stay with me.”

The others are talking to Ellie. They’re not interrogating her, but he can see her distress. She doesn’t want to talk.

Clint’s consciousness is starting to slip. He reaches up and grabs Sarah’s arm. She stops. This is his last chance to say something.

“She needs it more than me,” he whispers. He has a lot more he wants to say, but that’s about all he’s good for. The room dims and he’s out.

* * *

Ellie sits against the cold wall of the ranger station. She’s by herself in one of the back rooms. After pressing her for five or ten minutes, they had finally let her be alone. The gray light of this god forsaken country pours in from a window over her shoulder. There’s a framed landscape of Mount Hood on the wall behind the desk. It reads ‘Only in the Great State of Oregon.’

The door opens. It’s Sarah. There’s red on her fingertips. She closes it behind her.

“Hey,” she says. She walks over to Ellie, and when Ellie doesn’t get up, she squats.

“Is he going to be okay?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah.” Sarah’s not that old. Maybe thirty. But she looks motherly at that moment.

Ellie releases her breath. “Good.”

“Wanna talk?”

“No.”

“Will you anyway?”

Ellie plays with her fingernails. “Okay.”

“No one’s mad, Ellie.” Ellie looks at her, waiting to be convinced. Sarah twists her lips. “No one’s mad, sweetheart.”

_Sweetheart?_

“What happened up there, Ellie? You said he found you in a cave?”

“I was hiding.” Her voice sounds so small.

“Hiding from what, Ellie?”

Ellie picks at one of her nails. The sound of new rain falling down on the roof enters the room. “Everything.”

Ellie feels Sarah brush her hair away from her eyes. She looks at her. Sarah really isn’t mad. “Did you shoot Clint?” she asks softly.

Ellie feels tears in her eyes and she looks down. She’s shaking her head. “Yes,” she whispers.

“Do you know why?”

Ellie doesn’t respond.

“I don’t think you’re angry with Clint, Ellie. No one’s going to judge you.” Ellie still doesn’t respond and Sarah sighs. “Ellie, what was going on in that cave?”

“You don’t want to know what it was like in that cave.”

“Okay.” Sarah is being so patient. She’s a really good woman, Ellie decides. “Ellie, I feel like you need to hear it so I’m just going to say it. I haven’t even known you for that long and I can tell. You’ve been leaning on yourself too much. You need to start leaning on other people. Clint’s right there, he’d be glad to do it.”

She looks into Sarah’s brown eyes. She sounds like Maria. Ellie can feel the lines on her brow.

Why does what she’s saying sound so daunting?

“Okay.” Sarah slaps her knees and stands up. She offers Ellie her hand. Confused, Ellie takes it and Sarah pulls her up. She’s pretty close. She takes Ellie’s hands. “You know, you’re lucky. You get a free pass. I talked to Jordan.”

_Free pass?_

“W—“ Ellie starts. “What?”

Sarah has a knowing smile. “You wanna kiss me or something?”

“Do I wanna—“ Ellie can feel herself blushing. “Free pass? Sarah, you’re not even—“ She looks around, flustered. “I don’t want to kiss you…”

“Oh.” Sarah pretends to be offended. “Don’t like what you see? You’ll hurt my feelings.”

“Oh my god, dude, this is embarrassing. Why are you doing this?”

“I just feel like you could use a little body heat.”

“I don’t need—“ Ellie screws up her lips.

“I don’t need, I don’t need,” Sarah mocks her. “You need a lot, stop kidding yourself. Gonna do it all on your own?” She closes in, smiling. She knows what she’s doing. “Rather do this on your own?”

Just before their lips touch, Ellie makes a sound. Sarah pulls back, appraising her.

“Ellie?”

It’s coming real bad and Ellie doesn’t know what to do. She’s gonna slip, she can tell. Sarah doesn’t deserve this. Sarah doesn’t deserve—

Then the pain comes and Ellie moans and falls into Sarah’s chest. She’s crying all over her. She’s sobbing really hard. Sarah’s arms clutch her protectively.

“That’s it baby, I got you.”

“She made me do it!” Ellie wails. Her chest is pounding, the pain wracks her. “She made me do it!”

“I know she did, I know she did.” Sarah kisses her through her hair. “She asked you to because she could tell you were strong. You didn’t do anything wrong. You saved her, you hear me? You saved her. No one’s mad.”

“She made me do it…”

“I know, baby girl. I know.”

* * *

_We’re in the foothills. Los Padres National Forest. Or they were, back when there was a nation. We’re close. We’ll probably be in Santa Barbara tomorrow._

_I haven’t pulled this thing out in ages. I don’t know, I guess I chose cold post-sunset rumination over writing it down. I’m glad I’m writing now, though._

_Let’s see. What happened. We spent a few days in that ranger shack, while my wound healed. Things were actually pretty good. The morning after I found Ellie, I climbed my ass out of my bag and looked in to the room to find Ellie and Sarah huddled in Ellie’s sleeping bag. They had their clothes from yesterday on. I’m really thankful to Sarah. I barely said anything but Sarah seemed to get it anyway._

_After that things went back to almost decent. Ellie hunted up a whole deer. Between the six of us we ate the whole thing over a few days. They’d been kind of starving, after all. One night I pulled out the bottle of vodka I had found, and we sat around and drank, and they talked a lot about Steve and Jenna. It was hard on all of them, but Thomas most of all. Turns out Steve was his half-brother. I’m so glad he and Kate are okay, though._

_No one was mad at Ellie. I think they all sensed it, to an extent. Or Sarah talked to them. They actually paid Ellie a kind of special respect, one she truly deserves. Every one of them, hungry, had given Jenna food, because she needed it. And Ellie had done something much harder. She gave Jenna a bullet, because she needed it._

_Shit, this world is fucked up._

_God, I just want to wrap my arms around Ellie and kiss her. She deserves that, she deserves anything that might be given her. She’s reticent about receiving it though. I did hug her for the first time, the night we parted ways with the others. She hugged me back too, and before we let go she thanked me for getting her out of that cave. It’s the last we’ve spoken of it. Maybe that’s all that needed to happen._

_Oh, yeah. We did part ways with the others. Honestly, it sucked. Ellie’s good company, but the more, the merrier, you know? But we have a mission and the others needed a home. They’re going to Jackson. We let them take Starbeam. Ellie said it first, and I was like ’No!’ inside. But she was right. Seems like we’ll have trouble taking care of a horse. Probably the best chance of Starbeam getting back to Jackson okay. And how the hell were we gonna get her to Catalina Island?_

_Thomas cried, while Kate rubbed his back. He’s a sensitive guy. He’ll do well in Jackson. Jordan was standing there with his hands on his hips. All, tough, masculine leader. He started like he was gonna give me a speech or something, and I just pulled him in and hugged him. After, I thanked him for looking out for me, but more importantly for having the patience to let me find Ellie. I told him he doesn’t realize how important she is, but I couldn’t tell him more. I know what he thought I meant, but… In any case, he nodded and told me he was good for that and a lot more, and when we finally got our asses back to Jackson, he’d find some way to repay me._

_Repay me for what? They saved our asses. Doesn’t matter, those are our people now._

_Ellie said a similar goodbye to Sarah. I didn’t hear most of it. I did hear Ellie tell Sarah not to get pregnant till they get to Jackson, though. Sarah had shoved her and Ellie laughed._

_Last I saw of them, Kate was on Starbeam and they were walking over a hill, sun getting low. I remember thinking, ‘This world is tough, but what could handle that better than a family?’_

_I said my best goodbye to Starbeam. I’m sorry I ever thought bad of her name._

_Anyway, after our hug, we don’t talk too much about the bad stuff. And that’s about right. We’re alive, act like it. Things are good with Ellie, now. We were chummy before. Now we’re actually friends. I know how to make her laugh. She calls me an idiot like five times a day. Sheesh, like she doesn’t have the corniest jokes. She loves them._

_So, uh…_

_[Bunch of scribbles.]_

_Know what, Ellie? If you read this, you deserve it._

_It’s official, it’s not under control. I don’t think it was ever meant to be. But you know something else? It doesn’t matter. Why should it? It’s natural. It’s not an affliction, because it can’t hurt me. In fact, it makes everything better. Happy ending? Who cares? I’m happy now. This is fine. I could wake up every day in the middle of nowhere with Ellie, on the way to Catalina, for a thousand days, for the rest of my life._

_And I’d be happy._


	14. Maybe You Have to Be Me to See It

Santa Barbara is pretty, Clint’ll give it that. He doesn’t know who let some crazed architect get their hands on every building in the city, but the white plaster walls and red tiled roofs are ubiquitous. It’s cool, though, he’s never seen this kind of kind of building until they came to California. That and the palm trees. He’d seen old post cards, but once they got near the coast, holy cow, they’re everywhere.

California felt like three states. Coming out of Oregon through the highland and snow, they’d come over a hill one day and seen the Central Valley. That might be the farthest he had ever stared in one direction. Ellie felt it too, she just looked back at him and smiled.

People are scary, but the planet is amazing. They camped there that night.

The valley was pretty great, because it was huge, flat, and easy going. They hit a couple cities, when they wanted to, not because they needed to pass between mountains. Story with the infected is the same here as anywhere. They saw a couple caravans. They traded with one, mostly for food. Guy had jerky! Almost as good as Olmwood’s.

Ellie had also found a bow in a sporting goods store. She found some intact twine and strung it. She gave it to Clint.

He’s still not half as good as her, but she had been determined to teach him. She’d also shown him how to make those demonic ass exploding arrows. Effective, yeah, but freaking dangerous. They’d come up on a bloater a while back. It had roared at them and Clint shot it in the face with one of those arrows. It had left it without a head and most of its shoulders. It was gross. Ellie had been like “Whoa! That was sick!”

Anyway, the valley went on forever, but eventually they got out of it and back into the hills. They were somewhat familiar, but a little different. Lots of pine, tons of green. There are ferns here, they hadn’t seen much of that before. Clint decided he liked ferns. This forest was greener, almost, than Colorado and Utah. And real wet. He had to beat the dew off their tent every morning. Then they got to the coast.

Clint had never seen the ocean before. It’s basically a big lake, but… somehow, it’s totally different. He’s seen maps, he knows how big it is. And somehow, standing at the edge, not even seeing one percent of it, you can feel it. The winds are cold, and fierce, blowing in over it. But also incredibly fresh, even rejuvenating. The clouds are huge and voluptuous. The first night they camped within sight of it, he saw maybe the most gorgeous sunset he’s ever seen. No wonder people liked to live near it.

He saw the change come over Ellie, though. She would always change modes, when they were getting close to danger, but this was a little different. They haven’t talked about it in detail, but Clint knows what went down in Santa Barbara. He had suggested they could go a different way, Santa Barbara wasn’t even that close to Catalina. But Ellie was determined for some reason—as usual. She said the L.A. basin was probably ten times worse. She said they could probably find a boat here. And then they’d actually be in the clear.

She warned him about the gang. The Rattlers. They took a hit when they ran up against Ellie, but it doesn’t seem like they’re down and out. He’d seen more than one symbol, spray painted on a wall. They seemed too fresh.

They didn’t run into any, though, not yet. They came down out of the hills and stuck to the shadows, as always. Travelling without a horse sucks, it turns out, but it does make stealth a lot easier.

No farmland, they crept mostly through suburbs. There are some infected roaming around that they took care of, but not much. They hit a couple houses, but honestly they’re not hurting for supplies. They spent practically an hour in a comic shop they found. Metro Entertainment, just another busted mom and pop shop that he hadn’t taken a second look at, but Ellie lit up like a firework. She ran in, complete lack of caution, and started digging around. Most issues were ruined by weather, but many were intact.

Clint had packed carefully, but one thing he hadn’t thought to take on the way out of Jackson was entertainment. Ellie had, though. She had a bunch of these Savage Starlight comics. He had given her shit at the time for making Eddie carry them. She’d let him read them, they’re not bad. Title speaks the truth, she’s pretty savage. No surprise Ellie’s into them.

She did manage to find a couple issues she didn’t yet have. She already had a stack she intended to take with her, but when she found those, she freaked. She started squealing and stuff. Shit, it even had Clint nervous, glancing out through the windows. He couldn’t hide his smile though. Anything that makes Ellie smile, makes Clint smile.

It’s later that day, and they’ve made their way closer to the coast. They’re in a more residential area. It’s a grid of similar looking two story apartment buildings, white plaster and red tile, of course. They’re nice, though. Not just those little boxy apartments, these are more like suites. The buildings are connected by narrow, cobbled streets. Still no sight of rattlers, but there are plenty of infected in the area.

They’re inside one of the buildings now, avoiding some infected they saw. This unit would be really nice, if it weren’t for the apocalypse. They’re in a living area. There are some couches, and tables. It’s a two story unit and the room is open all the way up to the roof. There are stairs on one side leading to the second level. There are floor to ceiling windows, and golden sunshine is streaming through.

Ellie is standing in front of the window with her hands on her hips and her back to him, taking it in like him. They’d both been apprehensive of this city, but so far it’s been kind of peachy. Her hair looks brown, but when you catch it in the sunlight, like now, you can see the rosy halo of its auburn color. She acts like a cowboy, but she can’t seem to do away with it. She is so goddamn beautiful.

Clint grins. His little secret. His big secret. Ellie really hasn’t caught on, he can tell. It’s damn hard to hide, sometimes. She can tell he’s protective, but she’s protective of him too. The danger is good, it’s his camouflage. He won’t lie to himself, though, he’s nervous. He probably won’t be able to keep up the act forever. And then what? He has this bad feeling she’s gonna be mad. Really, really mad. For what reason? He’s not sure, but he’s getting to know Ellie.

He can see a sliver of her cheek. God, he’d like to kiss it. But shucks, son. Not everyone is lucky. He’ll just have to be thankful he’s lucky enough to still be alive. He’s got that. And Ellie. At a distance. That’s fine.

He smiles.

Then Ellie turns and looks at him, lips moving like she’s gonna say something, but she doesn’t. Because when her eyes meet his, she knows.

Her features slacken. She turns, disbelieving for a second. She looks him up and down. She takes a half step back. She frowns, and shakes her head. No. No, that can’t be.

Clint’s limbs suddenly feel cold. This feels distinctly unfair. He didn’t say anything. He’d done everything right. It feels like she stole the truth. But Ellie is still looking at him, and he can’t pull his eyes away. And he knows. And she knows. And she knows he knows she knows.

“The fuck?” she says eventually.

“Ellie—“ he interrupts himself. His gut is twisting and this is all going wrong. He wants to say a hundred things but it’s like he can’t. This is humiliating, it couldn’t be going any worse.

She cocks her head, still frowning. It falls to her again to break the awkward silence.

“Why were you looking at me like Dina used to?” She starts pacing slowly, circling him, watching him. She acts like she’s waiting for an answer.

Clint opens his mouth but sound just won’t come out. He swallows.

“Because I wasn’t looking?” She asks. He can tell the pieces are falling into place in her mind. “And was that the first time, or…?”

She finally breaks eye contact. Her eyes drift into the distance for a few moments. She winces, and then viciously kicks an empty box across the room. She huffs. “Clint, that’s not very smart.”

“No,” he finally chokes out. “No, I guess it’s not.”

She evaluates him. “Jesus Christ, it’s bad, isn’t it? You can barely talk. You were hiding this from me?” She shakes her head in disbelief again. “What did you think was gonna happen, Clint? Did you think we were going to—“ She looks off into the upper corner of the room, huffing again. She turns around, hands on her hips.

“You’re kind of letting me down, Clint.”

His heart sinks.

She rubs her nose. She speaks more quietly. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Ellie, don’t say that, okay?” he says. He’s finally found his voice. She turns and looks at him, expression neutral. “Don’t you fucking say that to me like everything before didn’t happen. Like either one of us would be alive without the other. Okay?”

Her expression doesn’t change. She looks him up and down again.

“Don’t say that, like it’s your problem or something. Like I’m letting you down. It will never be your problem. I get it, okay? I get how it’s going to be. And I’m fine with that, I’m not like Jesse—“

“Don’t you ever say that fucking name to my face. Ever again.” Her voice is both quiet and dangerous.

“Just—“ He clenches his jaw. “Just admit it. We still need each other.”

She doesn’t look convinced.

“We’re almost fucking there, Ellie!” It comes out louder than he meant.

She scratches her lip and half turns, considering. “Yeah.” She turns the rest of the way around. She sighs. “You’re right.” She turns and looks at him, hands on her hips, disappointed, but conceding. “We’re almost there.”

And with that, she turns and walks down the hallway, the way they had been going.

Clint hesitates, then follows her. He’s uneasy for a while, as they pass through another couple buildings, still avoiding the street. Then he realizes why. That conversation isn’t really over. In fact, there’s kind of a lot hanging in the air. Mainly because Ellie wasn’t very convincing in her acceptance. Shit, he can feel the distance between them all the sudden, when they’d been so close for weeks. She’s scarcely looking at him.

He was right. She’s straight up pissed. What an asshole.

They get into the next building, then hear the infected. They crouch behind a table as one. He looks at her.

“Do we go around?”

She shakes her head. “Easier to sneak in here.” She assesses the room. There are clicks, but Clint doesn’t see any stalkers. Sometimes he thinks those are the worst. Clever, sneaky fuckers.

No more words are necessary, she gestures to a hallway. She’ll go in there, clear it out. He takes this side, then they meet up on the other end. Clint nods.

His first hit is a runner. Some guy in a purple sports coat with his back to Clint, twitching in front of a bookcase. Standard form. Clint grabs his head firmly with his left hand, covering its eyes, well clear of the mouth, and opens his throat with his right. It’s over pretty quick.

A clicker enters his line of vision, ambling along awkwardly. Very slowly, Clint creeps to a couch between them for cover before the clicker can make him out. It seemed to sense motion, though. It starts coming his way.

Damn it. You don’t knife a clicker from the front, that’s 101. Very quietly, he retrieves his axe. He has a narrow window. It comes around the couch and it’s right in front of him. He stands up. It squawks in surprise, but that’s the last sound it makes before Clint’s axe splits its skull.

He looks around, but that seems like it. He puts his axe back and pulls his knife back out. He walks down a hall toward the rear door of the house. Right as he’s about to get to the corner, a female runner he hadn’t heard walks around it. They see each other at the same time. She leans back and spreads her arms, uttering an almost comical expression of surprise.

Not thinking, he slugs her hard in the mouth, knife in hand. She half turns, and he turns her the rest of the way and opens her throat before she can scream.

Shit, that was spooky.

The back door is right there, and a dark hallway leading to Ellie’s half of the suite. He crouches and waits.

A minute goes by, then two. Clint frowns. The house is quiet. Ellie’s stealthy, but human ears can hear another person offing infected. That, and after Teton Ellie quickly demonstrated the ability to signal him when she needs help.

This is taking too long. He’s trying to figure out what she might be up to, and thinking about their last conversation, when two and two finally come together.

_And you will never, ever see me again._

His blood goes cold. He hears a strange ringing sound, and he stands up. He’s breathing fast all the sudden. _No, no, no… She wouldn’t do that. She knows she can’t do that. She knows._

But Ellie’s still not there and he can think of no other plausible explanation. He taps the wall. No response. He taps harder, far louder than he should have to.

No response.

He starts thinking about exit routes. There are a ton. He thinks about tracking her, and it’s pretty fucking unlikely.

He flexes his arm. No. No, this cannot happen. Bev’s face keeps popping up.

He chuckles, insanely, then opens the back door. He already lost too much time, waiting for her in the house. He might have seconds of opportunity left. He pulls out his bow. He can see one runner, in a nearby intersection. He can hear more, throughout the area. He pulls out an explosive arrow. He takes aim, and lets fly at a building a block away. It strikes on the second story and there’s an explosion, plaster raining down. Infected start screaming.

He pulls his other explosive arrow and looks the opposite way. He needs good coverage. He arcs it to a building two blocks away. It hits the corner of the roof, to the same result.

Like a madman he stands there, waiting for them to come. At first it’s not clear he was successful. Then the screams start to get loud, and multitudinous.

When he sees a gang of runners charging through the nearby intersection, and one sees him, he finally goes back inside and latches the door.

He’s breathing too fast. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a couple deep breaths. The runner that spotted him starts banging on the door. There are sounds of agitated infected inside the house.

He pulls out his nine mil with one of those silencers Ellie had shown him how to make. He turns the corner, and he’s on the other end of the dark hallway that Ellie had gone down. There are no windows, but there are stairs upward. He creeps over and peers up them. He can see the silhouette of a runner at the top of the stairs. He moves to the landing and takes aim. The runner grunts in surprise, then gets a bullet in the brain.

When Clint is near the top he sees a clicker coming his way. It passes the staircase and continues down the hallway. He follows it, grabs it around the forehead and opens its throat.

It’s quiet for now. He turns around, towards light. Around the corner of the hallway there is an outside wall lined with windows. One of them is open. He approaches it and looks out. There is no balcony. There are tons of infected on the street. No real way out this way. He frowns. Then he sees it. There is a large plank connecting the roof of this building with the next. But how do you get on the roof?

He searches the floor briefly but finds nothing. He looks out the window again. The lip of the roof is close, within reach.

_Shit, seriously?_

He plants his boot on the window sill, reaches up and grabs the edge of the roof. The terracotta tile is snug. He grabs it. Pushing down thoughts of the insanity of this, he grabs it with his other hand. His boots are on the sill, but he is now basically hanging twenty feet above a street. A fall is certain death, either to gravity or the infected. He takes a deep breath, and lifts his boots off the sill.

The tiles bear him. He pulls himself upward. He manages to get a forearm up there, then another, then his shoulders. The roof is dusty. He’s being very careful not to slip. Finally he’s able to scramble up. He finds himself panting. The plank is ten feet away. He walks over and lifts it up. There are scuffs in the dust underneath it. This was laid recently.

Again not looking down, he walks carefully across it, holding out his arms for balance. On the new roof he sees a skylight that has been swiveled open. He looks down. The room underneath is dark and empty. He drops in, landing on the bed. He opens the door quietly. The hallway is low lit by more windows. He sees a dead runner. The blood is fresh. He walks past it and turns a couple corners. There’s another long hallway lined with windows. One of them is open. He can hear infected around the next corner.

Outside of this window, there’s a fire escape. There’s another one on the building across the way, as well as a broken window. He climbs out.

Now, the streets are narrow, but it’s probably still a good eight feet to the other fire escape. He glances down. There are probably twenty infected on the street below him, and more in sight. They aren’t screaming anymore, having been disappointed by local game. They’re still on alert, though.

 _Fuck it_.

He plants a boot on the railing, leans until his center of gravity is over empty air, then pushes off as hard as he can.

His chest hits the railing and it almost takes the wind out of him. His feet are kicking in the air. He’s hanging by his armpits. The infected below have noticed him. They start making a lot of noise. He gets his hands on the railing and hauls himself over. He lays on his back for a few seconds.

_God, I hope Ellie didn’t get too far._

He gets up and climbs in through the broken window. It leads into a bathroom. He opens the door to another hallway. He looks right and sees a decently lit kitchen. There’s a dead runner in the corner. He walks that way. When he emerges from the hallway into the kitchen area, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Something hard impacts the side of his head. “Agh!” he shouts. He stumbles into the counter.

He pulls out his gun but when he looks, it’s Ellie. Her teeth are bared. She advances on him. He points his gun away and holds up his other hand. “Ellie, wait—“

She slugs him in the jaw. He falls and ends up on the ground, leaning up against the counter. His head is throbbing and he’s dazed from the punch. Ellie moves in on him again.

“Ellie don’t!” He holds up his hands in defense.

She clenches her fist and rears it, but she doesn’t throw the punch. She almost does, a couple times. She turns around, pulls out her gun, and shoots the dead runner five times, gunshots shocking the air like shattered glass. She’s breathings fast through her nose.

“Ellie, please just listen.”

“What were you fucking thinking?” Her gun is still in her hand, but she’s relatively calm now.

“I had to stop you,” he says, dazed and sheepish. “I had to do whatever it takes.”

“Not that!” she shouts, looking at him.

Clint takes a few breaths, then his brow furrows. He’s starting to feel the anger now.

“Oh, _that._ ” He scoots up a little, getting a better position against the cabinet. “What was I thinking? What was I thinking, Ellie? Shit, I guess I wasn’t thinking. I was feeling. Is that a crime?”

Her eye twitches. “It depends…” She holsters her gun. “Clint, you knew it could never happen between us.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Then why…” she gestures. She doesn’t want to say it.

“Why? I don’t know…” He scoffs. God, she’s being impossible. “God, I don’t know, Ellie. Why did you love Eddie? Why do you care about Dina, and JJ, and Maria? Why do you care about Jackson? Why are you determined to find a cure?”

She looks at him, unresponsive.

“Because,” says Clint. “Fucking because, that’s why.”

Her eyes are distant. She looks disoriented. She turns toward the dead runner with a thousand yard stare.

_God damn it, Ellie. Why are you like this? Is it that bad? Is it that hard for you?_

Clint flexes his arm. “And you know what? I don’t regret anything. And fuck you for trying to leave me. Fuck anyone for doing that to someone. And you, you _know—_ “

“Shut up,” she says. She’s not looking at him.

“And you know what else, Ellie?” He stands up, pulling himself up by the counter. His head is still throbbing. “It’s not up to you.”

She looks at him. She’s got a distant look, like she’s only half there.

“It’s not your choice, it’s mine. I get it. I told you and you don’t believe me, but I do. I get how it’s going to be. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need anything else. I’m happy. I’m happy just like this. I’m…” He struggles with it for a second. “Fucking happy right god damn now. I don’t care if the cure is in Catalina, or Florida or god damned Japan. I’ll follow you there. Listening. Loyal. Every step of the way. And I’ll be glad for it.”

There are tremors in the small muscles of her face. Her eyes are glistening.

He knows he’s on thin ice, but he goes for it because she needs to hear it.

“Ellie, you don’t decide who gets to love you.”

For an instant, he can see the fear. Then she grimaces, stomps over to him, and unloads a long and terrible scream into his face.

He can’t look into her eyes. He turns, wincing as it happens to him. Eventually, she runs out of breath and walks into the living room with her back to him. She’s trembling. She wipes a tear from her eye.

There’s an icy pain inside Clint, and his skin is singing. His head throbs. That was not fun. He takes a few deep breaths. Ellie’s standing there, crying quietly now, facing the other way. Sunlight pours through a window on the other side of the living room. A bright red cardinal flies by.

“Ellie,” he says. She doesn’t respond. He walks over. “Ellie…” He puts his hand on her shoulder. He can see her tense up a little.

“Ellie, I’m not sure what you’re feeling… Whatever it is, I know you’re acting like this because it’s hard for you. When we left Jackson, you basically treated me like a soldier. That was easy. Familiar. That was okay. But I’m not just a soldier at the end of the day, and neither are you. People can be soldiers, but they’re also more than that. Everyone is more than that. We needed each other out here, and we found each other. You’re my friend, Ellie. You gonna tell me that’s not true?”

She’s quiet now. Her shoulders are slack.

“Ellie, I want you to know that you’re not responsible for me. Okay? I mean, you kind of are, we have each other’s back. But every step I’ve taken since Jackson I’ve taken with my own two feet. I didn’t agree to come with you because I thought I owed it to you. If you told me to do something that would get me killed, I wouldn’t listen. And if anything does happen to me, it’ll be because I chose to take the risk.”

She finally turns around. She doesn’t bother wiping her tears away. She’s giving him this look. God, those eyes sometimes… She’s giving him this look like _why should I believe that?_

He gives a little sigh. Is there something he can say? Is there some combination of words that will make her get it? He looks out the window for a second. Another cardinal flies into view, landing on the balcony rail. It looks at him.

“Ellie, don’t try to take my choice from me.”

She shakes her head like she can make all this go away. “Dina… Bresha, Dinah. Maedlyn. And you too?” she asks. “What do you all see in me?”

Clint blinks. Did she say Maedlyn? He shakes the thought off. Is that really how she feels about herself?

He looks around. He ends up scoffing and rolls his shoulders. “Maybe you have to be me to see it.”

He doesn’t hold back then. He lets her see how he feels about her. She acts like she doesn’t like it. She screws up her lips. She hits him on the chest, but it’s weak.

He reaches down and pulls Ellie into a hug. She starts crying and hugs him back. “You’re so stupid… you’re so stupid…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Tell me all about it.”

He can feel her wet tears on his chest.

“But you know,” he continues, “we kind of all are.”

He can feel her fingernails near his spine. “I’m really sorry…” she whispers.

His brow furrows. “For what, exactly? Pistol whipping me or screaming in my face?” He can smell her hair again, but he pushes that to the side. “Or for trying to leave me?”

“All of it.” He’s never heard her sound so small.

“Yeah… That wasn’t fun. But it doesn’t matter. Shit, I don’t even care, Ellie. You know what matters? You matter. We’re still alive. That’s what matters.”

She’s stopped crying. She pulls away.

“You and the cure,” he finishes.

She nods. She looks at the mess she’s made on his shirt. She wipes the snot from her nose and rubs it on his chest.

“Eugh! Fuck you dude!”

She actually laughs. Then she gets serious again. Not angry. Solemn.

“It’s really okay?” she asks him. “If it just stays like this?”

He takes a little comfort that she still doesn’t know, not really. What her face does to him. Her green eyes are so perfect, every time. She has a bruise and her cheek and a smudge on her forehead, and she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

He thinks about how to respond. He decides on sober. She needs to believe him.

“It’s totally okay,” he replies.

“I know I remind you of—“ she starts. She looks like she regrets saying anything.

Suddenly he can see her. They had had an easy day and the fire is going. They’re about to make dinner. Bev is just sitting on a log, then she meets his eyes. Nothing needs to be said. She just smiles, and he smiles back.

“Yeah,” he says.

She sniffs. Her face twitches again, around her eyes. She reaches up slowly and grips the straps of his pack over his chest. “If this is really how it’s going to be…” she starts. Her fists clench and she shakes him, slow, firm. There’s new anger on her face. “And you fucking die protecting me…” She shakes him again. Her teeth are showing. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Clint doesn’t know what to say for a second. It didn’t make any sense but she’s deadly serious. She actually expects a reply.

“Okay,” he says, diplomatically. He knows he needs to mean it, so he does. “Okay.”

She lets go and turns around. It’s finally over. He lets out air, a lot of it. The cardinal is still on the balcony rail, watching them. It flaps its wings and takes flight. A runner screams somewhere in the distance. Ellie puts her hands on her hips, half turning.

“And how the fuck are we getting out of this mess you made?”

“Oh,” he says, playing along, “like you’d let a few infected stop you.”


	15. The UC

Ellie was right, Clint had made a mess. The infected really came out of the woodwork when he had caused those explosions. She even saw a bloater in broad daylight, something she had never seen before. That plank had been handy, but most of the roofs weren’t close enough together to use it. They ended up going down to street level and sneaking from building to building. The infected were dense on some streets, but it was nothing a thrown bottle or two couldn’t clear up.

Eventually they got out of that nicer residential district, and back to the commercial plots and suburbs. They moved along largely in silence.

Ellie looked back every now and then, to see if Clint was eyeballing her or anything. He never was. He kept looking back at her, confused why she was watching him. It was amusing.

She still wasn’t totally at ease. Why should she be? It’s weird. But Clint had been right…

She sighs, resisting the urge to curse herself. It’s true, she had given into the instinct to abandon him, and that had been pretty fucked up. They were friends. She had liked it when they were soldiers. It was easier that way. Clean. It had helped in Grand Junction, she felt like. But that went to shit anyway, didn’t it?

Clint is her friend, and she’s grateful for it. Travelling alone had been bleak at times. Especially in Santa Barbara. This feels different.

“Hold up,” she says.

They had come up on a gas station. The building had been wrecked, and it was partially destroyed. They were able to walk up the slope of the collapsed roof to a high point for a vantage.

They’re running out of covered terrain. A huge freeway cut in on their left side, blocking them to the east and south unless they want to cross it, which she doesn’t. To the right, the airport comes in and meets the freeway. The airport offers way too much open space. There is quite a bit of tall grass between the runways, though.

“What do you think?” she asks him.

He sniffs. “Still testing me, after all this time?”

She frowns.

“Cause I feel like you already made up your mind,” says Clint.

“I can listen too, asshole. I’m asking.”

“Well—“ he stops. He puts a finger to his lips and points.

She looks, and maybe a couple hundred feet away, she sees two Rattlers. They get low.

The Rattlers are unaware of them. They’re talking as they walk. They’re headed toward the freeway. They pass behind a building, out of sight.

“God damn it…” says Clint.

“You said it.” Ellie turns to him. “I think we should cut through the airport. The UC is on the other side. I bet we can find a boat.”

“The UC?”

“University of California, Santa Barbara.”

“Ah… The airport? That’s a lot of open space…”

“I know, but there’s overgrowth. What else do we do?”

“Honestly?” says Clint. His cheek pinches. “Turn around?”

“In hindsight, there might be a better way through. But I think that’s more dangerous.”

“How so?”

Ellie gestures toward where they had seen the rattlers.

Clint’s cheek pinches again and he nods. “I’m gonna get a cramp from all the crouching.”

“Oh, boo hoo.”

They climb back down and make their way forward, favoring the direction the Rattlers had come from. They come up on a small, empty road with a chain link fence to the airport on the other side. There’s a man-sized hole in it. After looking up and down the road _very_ carefully, they cross and they’re in.

Clint was right, there’s a lot of overgrowth, but they have to crouch to say effectively hidden. The airfield is huge and it takes a while, it’s tiring. Ellie keeps looking up at the air control tower, and she sees Clint doing it, too. But they never see movement.

She crouches behind another bramble and wipes her forehead. The breeze is low right now and the California sun gets hot. It’s full Spring by this point.

“Need some water?” Clint asks.

“Oh, stop,” she says.

He makes a face that says _suit yourself_ , and takes a swig.

They get to the edge of the airfield and there’s some scrubby land. It’s quiet, and they cross without trouble. They push through some shrubby bushes, and find themselves in front of a wider road, with the UC on the other side.

Ellie can see several large buildings already, and she knows the campus is pretty big. She doesn’t have a campus map, but there have to be boats somewhere down on the shore side. It’s pretty damn overgrown. It’s a mix of palms, oaks, sycamores, some tall grass and bushes. The roadways are like wide paths through a small forest.

“Well, let’s hustle,” she says.

They duck through the chain link and jog across the road. No sound of infected, yet. It’s ominously quiet. They enter the tall grass across the sidewalk. It used to be a wide lawn, looks like. They’re climbing up the slope toward a six story gray building when they see a flash of color. A bright red bird with blue and yellow plumage on its wings lands on the branch of a sycamore.

“Whoa!” says Ellie without thinking.

“Is that a parrot?” says Clint. “Are those common in California?”

“I don’t think so. I bet they got out of the zoos after the outbreak.”

“It looks crazy.”

“I know. I almost want to draw it. They’re tropical—“

“Ellie?” says Clint.

Then Ellie hears it too, too late. A loud, gas engine is closing in on them fast. They turn, and a jeep is barreling up the road they just crossed. Ellie makes eye contact with a woman standing in the open back. The woman’s eyes go wide.

“Shit!” says Ellie. They drop as one under the grass. Clint starts moving and she follows him.

The jeep screeches to a stop.

“What?” says a man loudly, annoyed.

“I just fucking—Roy, get out of the fucking jeep. I just saw two of ‘em.”

They’re close to the building, there’s a low rail and a glass panel door that Ellie can see. Clint gets to the railing, and peers over it into the door. She’s about to jump it but he holds out his hand for her to stop. They meet eyes and he shakes his head.

 _Too many infected_.

“Tourists?” asks Roy.

“Yeah, that’s not the point. Roy, I saw _her_.”

Ellie’s heart sinks.

“Who?”

They start moving around toward the main lane, still in the grass.

“The blonde bitch?” It’s Roy again.

“No, Roy!” The woman’s voice is urgent. “The other one. The little one. The one from Casa Roja. That set all the prisoners free and killed like eight guys herself.”

“Bull fucking shit.”

“Roy, I looked her in the eye.”

There’s a short silence. “Oh _shit_ …”

“Yeah. Jesús, get Grays on the radio.”

Roy starts laughing, long and low. “We’re gonna have to scare this bitch up. Jameson’s gonna flay her!”

Clint gives Ellie a couple worried looks. She shakes her head. She gestures around the building toward the path into the UC.

“We’re gettin’ a raise after this, kiddos!”

Ellie and Clint are pushing through bushes and around trees. It’s slow going, they need more speed. They get to one of the main lanes, all uneven bricks, grass pushing through. Ellie cuts into it.

“Run!” she says.

They sprint down the lane, footsteps pretty loud. There are over grown planter boxes. Ahead of them they can see a quad. No infected yet. The pull up in the quad. There are large buildings in every direction. There are some broken windows, but it’s not as war torn as parts of the city they’ve seen. There’s a big red brick building with letters on the side reading ‘Office of Admissions.’ A several-story white building across the way has ‘they never cared’ spray painted on the side.

“There!” someone shouts.

Ellie and Clint turn to see the woman aiming an automatic rifle at them from the other end of the lane. She starts ripping off shots and they both go for cover. They end up on opposite sides of the lane. They look at each other.

“Two of ‘em! They’re armed! Obviously…”

Clint’s got this look on this face. At least two of the Rattlers have a line on them down the lane. They can’t cross it safely. This could separate them. Clint gets that look where his nose wrinkles and he sets his jaw.

_Not gonna happen._

He pulls out his rifle, shoulders and levels, lets out his breath and steps smoothly out into the vantage. He pulls off a shot in less than a second, yanks the bolt, then pulls another.

“Shit!” says the woman.

They must take cover because Clint breaks aim and crosses to her. She can sense his relief.

“He grazed me at that range!” shouts the woman. “Be careful!”

“Should we just kill them?” asks Clint.

Ellie shakes her head. “More are coming. We need to get out. Now. The infected will have to be cover for us.”

“Should we…” Clint trails off.

She’s confused for a second then it clicks. She scoffs. “You know what?” She looks around. “Maybe.”

She lopes to the nearest path out of the quad. Maybe thirty yards away, there’s a parking lot. Several infected are stumbling around. Ellie points with her head and they enter the foliage on the other side of the lane. They creep a ways, then Ellie stops. Clint looks confused. Ellie puts a finger to her lips. She pulls out her bow and one of her uglies, as she likes to think of them.

Their three pursuers are entering the courtyard now. They’re stepping carefully, guns raised, looking around. They know what counter-ambushes feel like. They’re careful, but not careful enough. Ellie nocks the ugly and stands up.

“Sorry about the raise, asshole,” she says under her breath, and she lets the explosive arrow fly.

“There!” says the older man, Roy, but it’s too late. The arrow lands almost at his feet. There’s a boom, then a shower of red as the shrapnel rips him apart.

“Damn!”

“Oh fuck!”

The others stumble backward, then retreat into the bushes. The infected are already screaming. Ellie can hear their feet on the pathway. She turns to Clint. He’s got this ridiculous look on his face, between shocked and impressed.

“Move,” says Ellie.

They continue through the bright green foliage. Ellie lifts a low frondy palm branch out of her way. She can see more pavement. There are grunts and shouts in front of them. More runners pass by, going the way they came. She waits a bit longer. There are clicks, and two clickers shamble past, after them.

“They’re gonna have their hands full,” says Clint.

“So will we, if backup gets here,” Ellie replies.

They look around. There’s a huge building in front of them. A sign on the side reads ‘UCSB Library.’ To the left is where those infected had come from, and she can see more in the distance. To the right is a wide open space. It probably used to be a lawn. Now it’s mostly mid length grass, with a few small trees. There are a lot of infected roaming around it. A lot. They didn’t hone in on the explosion, but many of them look agitated, more aware.

The clouds above are darkening, roiling. A storm system looks like it’s moving in. Ellie hears a distant peel of thunder. She turns to Clint, who’s looking at his compass. She doesn’t really need hers, but he seems to be thinking the same thing.

“Which way to the ocean?” she asks.

He points toward the large building. “Cut through?” he asks.

“Yep,” she replies.

They hurry over the cracked concrete and up the steps to the massive building. It’s two tall buildings, connected by a lower, central one. The one they’re about to enter has dark, floor-to-ceiling glass windows almost to the very top.

Ellie can see the glass double doors are barred, but a huge glass pane next to them is shattered. It’s pretty dim inside, but they can see. She hops over a desk inside the window and they’re in.

They’re in an entry way. There’s a long desk along the opposite wall. To their left and right, the floor opens up into huge rooms filled with rows of dark book stacks. Runners can be heard in the distance, as well as clicks. They crouch automatically. She looks at Clint. Sometimes, they don’t even have to say anything. They look at each other and the message comes through.

_We do this quiet._

He nods.

They creep around the end of the long desk. They follow a wall to the back of the building. There’s an emergency door, but it’s heavily blocked by bookcases. There are windows all along the back of the building, but they’re almost totally overgrown outside. Light just gets in over the tops of the leaves. They hear a runner approaching them. They both take standing cover at the ends of the rows of shelving. Eventually, it stumbles out between them. It looks at Ellie in surprise. Clint’s arms reach around it, and he cuts its throat.

Ellie makes a sound in her throat. She’s done it a thousand times, but having a front row seat is particularly disgusting.

Clint looks around the shelf, deeper into the building. There’s not much light. And a lot more infected. He pinches his cheek.

_Yeah, I don’t like it either._

She leads him back to the main lobby and they cross to the stacks on the other side. They can’t see any infected yet. They take a similar path and creep toward the back of the building. The emergency exit is similarly blocked, but the window next to it is less overgrown. They could get through, but of course to do that—

Her hackles raise. She turns to Clint, he stops, turns and freezes, because behind him, as close as Ellie is, is a stalker. Its long fingers, reaching for Clint, are now still as a statue.

They spook easily, so with a very slow, casual motion, Clint draws his pistol and shoots it in the face.

“Move,” says Ellie, “move now!”

The infected are already crying out. They run to the bright window. Damn it, the glass is thick. She’s not sure what to—

Clint steps in front of her with this shotgun and blasts it. Between the shotgun blast and the din of the shattering glass, every infected on the floor will be on them. Clint doesn’t wait but jumps on the metal pane housing and through the window. Ellie is right behind him.

They break into a sprint. Ellie can hear the infected dumping out of the window behind them.

They run up a walk. There’s a fence and a construction site on their right, and more overgrowth to their left. A runner somewhere in the overgrowth perks up, and growls as it joins the pursuit. She can hear some over the fence as well.

They come up on an intersection. “Right!” Ellie calls out.

There are a few more tall buildings in front of them. There’s a small gap between them, with a chain link fence. “There!” she calls out.

The runners are a ways behind them, but there are a _lot_. When they get to it, Clint immediately moves to boost her. She steps in his hands, and he gives her enough force to clear the fence entirely. She lands on her feet and watches as Clint clambers over.

The first runners are approaching. Sometimes they will climb chain link, especially if they just watched their prey do it. When the first two get there, grabbing at the links, Ellie and Clint each off one. They drop and the others close in. They grab at the fence but don’t try to climb, since they can see what they want right in front of them. The fence bows a bit.

“Move,” she says, but Clint is already moving. They’re in a small courtyard with a couple dumpsters and a small central bed with some ferns and bushes. There’s a rusted metal door in a small wall connecting two buildings. Ellie grabs the handle and it opens from this side. There’s a long alley, she walks into it. Clint shuts the door behind them, and they start briskly walking down the alley.

“There’s no reason to boost for a chain link fence,” Ellie says.

Clint is taken aback. “I figured it would be faster.”

“Not for you,” says Ellie, “and you know the drill. If we ever do need a boost in a hurry, you go first since you can pull me up faster.”

“Shit, really, Ellie? Now?”

“Always.” They can hear the runners behind them, but it’s relatively quiet here. She stops, turning him toward her. “If this is going to work, you have to follow the rules.”

He turns away for a second. He’s really annoyed. He takes a breath, and meets her eyes. “Right.”

“It’s not because I’m bossy,” Ellie continues. She sniffs, and rubs her nose. “It’s because I’ve watched too many people die for no good reason.” His features soften. “And you already promised me. That’s not gonna happen to you.”

He’s nodding subtly. The air has taken on a chill from the cool gray light above and the ocean breeze. “That’s not gonna happen to me.”

She nods, and with that, they keep moving.

When they get out of the alley, they can see the ocean, but it’s not good. There’s a twelve or fifteen foot wall constructed blocking the way to the beach. It’s not FEDRA, but it’s solid. Vertical steel bars. Climbable, maybe, but not easy. It runs all along the road in front of the beach.

“Damn it,” she says.

“No, it’s good,” says Clint, “we wheel a dumpster over and—“

At the same time they hear the sound of a vehicle coming their way. They look to the left, and a jeep is coming up the beach road from the North. It corrects its course. They’ve spotted them.

Ellie curses and they fall back into the alley. They look around for cover, there’s little. Clint crouches behind a metal trash can.

“Ellie!” he beckons, but she has an idea. She crouches at the entrance to the alley, on the side the jeep is coming from.

They tires screech across the concrete, immediately in front of the alley, blocking it. The jeep’s engine rumbles. She’s right next to it, too close for them to see. She smells the toxic, sweet smell of exhaust.

“Where are they!” someone shouts.

“There, behind the trash can!”

Ellie sees a barrel poke out from the window. They start firing.

She rolls under the carriage of the jeep. She crawls into a crouch near the back. She stands up and her heart almost stops when someone drops right in front of her. But she’s facing the other way. She tries to step forward, but Ellie grabs her and opens her throat. She lets her down.

She walks up to the driver window. A man in the passenger seat is blasting away at the can. His powerful rifle is actually tearing it up, it won’t last. Ellie pulls out her nine mil and shoots him in the back of the head. The driver is shocked. The woman turns and sees Ellie. She grabs Ellie’s gun hand, which was almost in her face.

They’re locked, both hands struggling. Ellie is trying to point it at her face. The woman tries to go for her gun, but has to grab Ellie’s arm again to stop her. Then she opens her mouth and bites Ellie’s wrist, hard. Ellie cries out. She knees the side of the jeep, but she can’t do anything. Then she sees Clint.

She lets out a surprised sound, then swivels out of the way so Clint can put a round in the woman’s head. She slumps down in her seat.

“Jesus,” says Ellie. She’s pretty shaken. From muscle memory, she methodically splashes alcohol on the bite on her arm, wincing at the sting. That’s going to leave another scar. She wraps it.

She opens the door and hauls out the woman’s body. Clint is doing the same with the other guy. Ellie climbs into the driver’s seat, then does a double take at Clint. There’s blood on his chest, on the left side. She sees Tommy’s face.

“Clint?” she says. She sounds scared.

“That can was shit cover,” he says. He reaches down. Grimacing, and making a few unhappy sounds, he works at it with his fingers and pulls out a bloody bullet. She breathes a sigh of relief. It hadn’t gotten past the muscle of his chest. The garbage can probably ate its momentum.

He treats and wraps his own wound. She offers to help but he refuses it. Ellie’s hands are shaking. She grips the steering wheel firmly. That was too close.

They can hear more vehicles, but they aren’t close. And more than a few gunshots.

“Where do we go?” asks Clint.

Ellie eyeballs the fence.

“No,” says Clint. “We could just get hurt trying to drive through that thing.”

“Then we pull up next to it and climb over.”

“Smart.” He puts his seatbelt on.

Ellie chuckles. He gives her a look. “Seriously?” she says.

“Yes, seriously!” He’s kinda mad. “We don’t know what’s about to happen. Put your seatbelt on!”

She cocks her head. He’s got a point. She pulls hers on.

Ellie puts it in gear and starts it rolling. They barely reach the road when they hear another vehicle. Off to the North, a truck is barreling down on them.

“God damn it!” says Clint, drawing his gun.

Ellie presses the throttle and she turns South. There are some gunshots, and a couple of them clang off the jeep. Clint leans out of the window and starts shooting backward.

Palm trees fly by on their left as she rips down the road. The ocean breeze is strong and salty. The Pacific is a deep blue immensity under the darkening gray sky. She sees a lightning bolt miles away over the water. Rain drops start landing on the windshield. The wipers don’t work.

There are a couple abandoned vehicles on the road, but they’re easy to avoid. Until another jeep comes toward them from the right at an upcoming intersection. It’s going fairly easy for a second, but then they step on the gas and try to head Ellie and Clint off.

“Damn it!” she growls. She swivels the wheels a bit, and ends up slamming into the other jeep’s side by the back wheels, sending it into a tail spin. There’s a shock, and the belt squeezes the air out of her lungs. Clint had been right. She steps on it again, but the truck following them overtakes them. It tries to run them off the road, but she brakes and moves behind them. She presses the throttle all the way down and is able to get even with them.

Clint leans forward and aims his gun out Ellie’s window. He fires off a couple magnum rounds, leaving Ellie’s ears ringing. The truck slows down deliberately.

They’re tearing through a narrow parking lot now, between two long lines of abandoned cars. There are two buildings between them and the water. They’re running out of land. This is a small peninsula. There’s a body of greenish water to their right, above the ocean.

She cannot stop so she doesn’t let up the gas. There’s a gap between two buildings she aims for.

“Shit, Ellie-e!”

They slam into the plaster and with a deafening, grinding crash break into a small courtyard. There’s red cobbles beneath them and strewn plastic picnic tables about. She doesn’t let up on the gas. There’s another gap. She aims for it. Clint grips the handle above his window.

They slam into the plaster and grind into the gap, but it’s too long. They lose their momentum, and the tires are peeling out on the ground. Their windows are completely obstructed by the buildings on both sides. Ellie curses.

“With me, Ellie!” Clint scoots forward, planting his boots against the windshield. “Full strength!”

She lifts herself with the steering wheel and plants her feet against the windshield, back to the seat. _Full strength._

They start pushing with all their might. They grunt with the strain. They could start getting bullets in the back any second. At first, nothing happens. Then there’s a pop on Clint’s side. Then several more, and the upper mounting of the windshield gives way with a loud snap and it flops onto the hood.

Infected have started screaming. Ellie can hear them in the courtyard behind them. There’s the rumble of a bloater. They clamber over the windshield and they’re in another open space. There’s a planter box, benches. And the wall. It continues all the way around the peninsula, and wraps around even past the lagoon.

There’s a structure at the end of the concrete. Something to do with water. A cistern, or sewer or something. “Come on!” Ellie shouts. The rain is coming down now, really coming down. Their feet slap the wet pavement. They’re soaked by the time they get there. It’s a wide, metal and concrete square, raised a few feet off the ground. Ellie climbs on top. There’s a circular, heavy grate, and darkness below it. Ellie can hear water down there. She sees a glint of light in a tunnel, or wide pipe.

There’s a broken, rusted padlock next to the grate clasp. They both grab the metal lattice and pull the thing open. Now it’s a round, black hole with the sounds of water coming up.

“Don’t fuckin’ like it,” says Clint.

There’s the roar of an engine, and the truck comes tearing up the grass embankment between the building and the lagoon behind them.

“This or death!” says Ellie.

She jumps in and lands in icy, foul smelling water. She stands up and spits it out. Clint lands right next to her, splashing her. It’s about three feet deep.

They click on their lights. The glow she had seen is daylight coming through a pipe leading out to the ocean. It’s unobstructed, maybe seven feet wide and thirty feet long. Water splashes along the bottom, running off from what they’re standing in.

“Bingo!” says someone. They look up to see a man at the entrance they had come in. They back into corners, water splashing. He doesn’t have a good angle on them. “Ah…” he continues, “what do they say? Fish in a barrel?”

He’s fiddling with something in his hands. Ellie looks at Clint. He looks like she feels, at a loss. He looks at the drainage pipe. Then something splashes down into the water below the hole. It’s blinking.

Without hesitation, Ellie splashes over to it, grabs it, and hucks it back out of the hole. The guy on top ducks back ward in surprise. He turns around. “Shit she…” Then his voice gets ten times louder. “ _Jake! It landed in the_ —“

Then there is a bone-shaking explosion.

Ellie is knocked backwards and submerged in the water. Her head hits something hard. Everything is dark. She can feel the shockwaves of heavy things landing in the water. One hits her calf, cutting it. She finds the ground, slimy stone, and pulls herself to the surface. Drool and water are dripping from her lips. She can’t see. Her flashlight broke.

“Clint?” she calls.

Then she can hear him pull himself out of the water, coughing and sucking in air. He spits, looking around. His light is on. He finds Ellie. “Good god…” he says.

There’s a loud sound of running water. They look up. The opening up top is about four times the size now. The concrete walls of the chamber are cracked, huge chunks missing. Under Clint’s beam they can see a part of the wall where dozens of cracks are allowing rivulets of greenish water to pour through. A piece falls out and the flow increases.

“Ellie, we need to—“

At the same time, they hear the slosh of water. Clint turns and his beam illuminates a shambler, maybe six feet from him.

“Holy shit!”

It charges him, and he ends up grabbing both of its hands. It’s huge, and pushes him back, slamming him against the wall.

Ellie’s magnum is in her hand, she’s blasting the disgusting, pustule ridden monster. Someone is screaming, and she realizes it’s her.

“Get the fuck off him! Get the fuck off him! Get the fuck off him!”

Her magnum starts clicking and she drops it straight into the water, pulling out her nine mil. She keeps ripping off shots. When her clip is empty it finally lets out a groan, one of its legs getting weak. Clint starts pushing it back.

Then there’s a deep, thunderous rumbling sound, and the upper wall gives way to a torrent of water. Ellie only has time to shout before the wave slams into her and she loses her feet.

The world is a dark swirl of green water, black stone walls, and distant gray light above them. At one point she sees Clint still struggling with the shambler. She feels a powerful current, and she’s pulled under.

She gets glimpses from Clint’s flashlight, but otherwise it’s chaos. They’re in the pipe, she can tell. The shambler is still on Clint. At one point her face gets forced up against its disgusting pustules. One bursts, and it stings her cheek, but then the water whisks the acid away.

There’s a drop, then a moment of gasping air, then an impact as she plunges into open water. The current pushes her, then slows. She reaches down and feels sand. She pushes off of it, kicks her legs, and breaks the surface, standing.

The first thing she sees are the high, iron walls on the higher ground of the peninsula, above them. Rain pelts her face. She looks around, and everything is blue. They’re a few yards into the ocean. A wave hits her back, causing her to stumble. Desperate, she turns around, and sees Clint standing a few feet away. He’s lost his glasses. He’s got a bunch of bright red cuts on his skin.

Before she can say anything, the shambler climbs up from the sea in front of them. This one’s eyes still show in its face, white and lifeless. Sea water pours from its open mouth. Blood and green ooze run from its many wounds. It rears up and roars into the air.

Clint’s axe splits its face from its cheek, across its mouth to its chin, abruptly ending its scream. Clint pulls it out, and the monster rocks, stunned. The next one splits its forehead, and it collapses.

Rain pounds their backs as they stand there, panting. Waves try to push them over. They look at each other, too shocked to speak. With shaking hands it takes him a few tries, but Clint sheathes his axe.

“Clint…” says Ellie. He looks at her, confused. She sloshes over to him. She raises her hands, but doesn’t touch him. He looks down.

His arms, chest, shoulders. There are scrapes and cuts all over them. Some of them run with blood. It’s impossible to say what made them. Clint looks at the shambler.

“Get in the water,” says Ellie. She grabs his shoulders and pushes him away from the shambler.

“Ellie,” he says. He stumbles. “Ellie, what are you—“

She shoves him and he goes under. She pushes at him. Willing the water to cleanse his wounds. Willing the universe for one fucking instance of pity.

He fights her. He climbs out of the water for a second, sucking in air. She pushes him back down.

She keeps seeing Abby. Struggling against her. Sea water cleansing the blood and dirt, revealing her sunken face. It tastes the same as it did then.

He finally gets to his feet, sputtering. He shoves her off him. “Ellie, what the fuck!” He’s angry and confused.

“Maybe you didn’t get it,” she says. She doesn’t like how her voice sounds. “Maybe it washed away.”

He stands panting with wide eyes. He looks at the shambler again. He wipes his nose with his arm. “Shit,” he says. “Shit, maybe. Doesn’t matter, let’s go.”

He starts making his way to the shore, as if somehow it could really not matter. She follows him. They clamber onto the beach. Clint pulls out some alcohol and starts splashing himself.

“Give me that,” says Ellie. She finishes what he started, getting some cuts on his back he couldn’t see. After, he does the same for her. But other than the cut on her calf and a small slice on her arm, it’s just bruises. Ellie looks around.

Visibility is bad. It’s getting dark and the rain is dense. But there’s something down the shoreline. A structure. As they approach, they see it’s a small dock. There’s a motor boat.

There’s a shack on the shore side. It has the rattler emblem painted on it. They look inside. There’s not much, but there’s gas cans. They take all of them. They stumble clumsily into the boat. They’re shell-shocked and exhausted. Ellie tries the engine and it works on the first try.

She looks at Clint. “Compass.”

He’s confused for a second, then he nods. She drives them out over the water.

“Which way?” she asks.

Clint looks over his shoulder. He looks like he barely knows where he is. He reads the compass, then he points, meeting her eyes.

And so they go.


	16. Blood

The first light of dawn is finally making its way up from the horizon. The LA shore is visible, but far away. Catalina looms above them. Dawn is beginning to turn it green.

Ellie had refused to stop even once. They had lost a lot in the chaos, in the water especially, but Clint still had a couple cans of food and his opener. Ellie had no interest until at Clint’s determined insistence she finally put some in her mouth. She ate almost all the green beans. She didn’t stop driving them.

Clint had stopped shaking finally after maybe twenty minutes. The relentless rain and freezing ocean winds did not help. Then about three quarters of the way through the night, he started shaking again. Little trembles, at first. He didn’t say anything, but he was starting to get feverish, Ellie could tell. It was scaring the shit out of her.

He had been shot, cut up, and doused in lagoon, drainage, and ocean water. He had plenty of reason to be infected notwithstanding Cordyceps. They didn’t have any more antibiotics. The Fireflies would have to. And they would have to still be at Catalina too.

If they weren’t…

Ellie doesn’t have to hold back right now. She lets the tears fall, because the rain just washes them away.

She’s cold, and exhausted, and cramped, but it doesn’t matter because they’re almost there. She’s rounding the eastern side of the island. There’s no indication of where the Fireflies are set up.

Then, they see a glint. Up on a cliff, there’s a spotlight pointed at them. They can’t see past it, but they must be lookouts. Ellie’s hackles raise.

But it has to be them, right? She tells herself it is. Then, Clint just lifts his arm and hails them. They can’t see any response. But if they are Fireflies, it’s about their only way to indicate they are friendly. Ellie makes herself raise her arm too.

There’s no way up here, so she keeps going. In the distance, she sees a city, built into the hills above a small bay. She approaches it.

“They better have this island fucking secure,” she says, voice trembling.

Clint looks back at her. She can tell he’s still concerned about her. It makes her so angry. He’s starting to look woozy. Clint just nods at her.

There’s one central dock, a couple hundred feet long. There are boats moored that look like they are in good condition. There’s a party walking down the dock, too. They have guns. Against all her instincts, she brings the boat in to the end of the dock, where there’s an open space. Clint lashes a rope around the metal ring on the dock post.

The sounds of boots on wood grow louder. There are five armed men and women, led by an older man with a gray streak in his hair. He looks pretty serious, maybe a little hardass. But not cold, like hunters. They pull up and look down at them.

The rain has finally stopped and it’s daylight, grayed by the cloud cover. Ellie stands up. The dock is about chest height. The group is standing over them now, looking them over. She doesn’t know what to say so she kind of just waits.

“Well, you two look like shit,” the older man says. The stitching on his left breast reads ‘Dunford.’

“Feel like it, too,” says Clint. He needs medical attention.

Dunford sniffs. “I can see that. Well—“

To Dunford’s surprise, one of the soldiers interrupts by stepping around him. And when Ellie sees who it is, her entire body goes still.

Abby’s shoulders are as big as they were in Seattle. Her braid is just long enough for the tip to rest on her shoulder. There’s a Firefly tattoo on her left arm. Her face is a stony mask. She holds an automatic rifle casually over her torso.

“I thought I said I never wanted to see your face again,” she says.

Ellie’s just standing there, eyes wide. Her body gently rocks with the movement of the boat.

Dunford, clearly in command, is piqued. His eyes move between them.

Clint speaks up. “Ellie, what is this?”

Abby sniffs. “You still want to kill me?”

Ellie’s lips are parted. She can’t move. She doesn’t understand how this is happening. Why this is happening.

Clint moves uneasily. “Jesus Christ, Ellie, is that _her_?”

Ellie takes a few breaths. She manages to shake her head.

“Good,” says Abby. She lets go of the gun with one hand, and offers it to Ellie.

Ellie stares at it for a second. She reaches up, takes it, and Abby pulls her onto the dock with ease. Ellie turns a half step and her leg gives out. Dunford catches her.

“Whoa, there. Easy. We need to get you two inside. You been out all night?”

“Clint,” says Ellie, pointing at him. She doesn’t have a lot of words right now.

Abby walks over and offers her hand. Struggling to balance in the boat, Clint stands up and takes it. She pulls him up with little more effort. He’s unsteady on his feet as well, but Abby supports him.

“You guys had a rough night,” she says. But she’s inspecting him carefully. All the cuts.

“It’s not Cordyceps,” says Ellie abruptly. The Fireflies look at her. “He just needs antibiotics.”

“Yeah?” asks Dunford. He inspects Clint. “We’ll see to him. Come on.” With that, he turns and starts marching up the pier, and the others follow him.

Ellie moves with them. She feels so out of place. But they’re safe. Right? Why doesn’t she feel safe?

At one point she looks back and sees Abby supporting Clint as they walk. Abby is not looking at her, seemingly on purpose. Clint looks tired, but lucid. He meets her eyes and nods.

They make their way off the pier and along the street following the water. They pass a few narrow streets. The town is full of colorful buildings. There are people around. Normal people. They pass some trade stalls. The smell of rich food makes her stomach twist in longing. Some of the houses look unoccupied, but many aren’t. There are lights. People come in and out of them.

They walk up an incline toward a large, round building with a red-tiled roof and many colored flags flying about the top of it. It stands on the top of an outcropped cliff on the West side of the tiny bay. As they approach, Ellie can see there are mosaics on the side of the building. There’s one of a lithe mermaid swimming in a colorful seascape. There are soldiers about, Ellie sees a jeep depart. They get some looks of passing interest as they enter the building.

Inside, there are desks everywhere, even in the wide hallway, lined with nice, old-fashioned wood paneling. There is a pair of double doors, and Dunford pushes through them.

They enter a huge, domed room with stadium seating. It’s full of people, bustling. Many are in the seats, surrounded by files and with makeshift desktops in front of them. Some are standing, talking, coming or going. Most of those guys have long guns. On the stage up front, there’s a small group of people talking to one man. Dunford leads them up the steps.

“Good question, but it’s your job to figure that out,” the man in the center of the stage says. He’s about the same age as Dunford. He’s got short brown hair, unstyled. He’s got light brown eyes, and a twist on his lips that says he’s used to dealing with problems. He turns and regards Dunford. “Now why don’t you get to it.” The young woman he’d been talking to frowns with her mouth, salutes, and walks off.

“Commander,” says Dunford as they pull up.

“Captain,” he replies. He regards Ellie and Clint. “Howdy there, sicky and string bean, come to join the cause?”

Ellie’s nonplussed.

“Uh,” says Clint. Abby’s arm is still under him. “Yeah.”

The commander is looking Clint over. “She says it’s not Cordyceps,” says Dunford.

“Indeed. Marisa.” One of the soldiers standing at the edge of the stage comes over. “See this one down to the infirmary. What are your names, firstly?”

“Clint.”

“First and last, please.”

“Clint Edwards.”

“Ellie…”

 _Miller_ , she thinks for a second. She finds herself thinking of her mother, for the first time in a while.

“Ellie Coulsen.”

“Excellent. Commander Neil Grayson, at your service. And you have been escorted by one Captain James Dunford.” Dunford inclines his head politely. “Now Marisa, please take Clint down to the infirmary.”

Marisa beckons Clint and he takes her arm. He looks over his shoulder, obviously reluctant to leave Ellie. She shakes her head, and he goes.

“Now, Ms. Coulsen,” says Grayson, “is there anything I should know about you two before we get you some food, rest, and, most importantly, jobs?”

Ellie hesitates. This is happening so fast. She has whiplash. Should she say it in front of everyone? She looks over her shoulder at all the people working below.

“Just say it.” It’s Abby. She’s watching Ellie with an unreadable expression.

Grayson’s eyes are narrowing on her.

“Um…” she starts. Fuck it. “Yeah, actually. I’m immune.”

He doesn’t react at first. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. He looks her up and down, then inclines his face forward, as if to see her better. He enunciates his next words slowly and deliberately. “You are possessed, of a proven immunity, to the Cordyceps infection.” His eyebrows climb. “Is that what I am to understand?”

“It’s true,” says Abby. She sniffs again. “It’s her. From Saint Mary’s.”

The seats below them are growing quiet. People are talking in low voices. “Did you hear what she just said?”

“I saw her with my own eyes,” Abby continues. She looks at Ellie. “When they were about to operate.”

Grayson is staring at Ellie. He scoffs. “You’ll have to pardon me,” he begins, “but holy fucking shit.”

He laughs then, and turns around raising his arms as if addressing the sky. “You still got some tricks, don’t ya, you old devil! Hah! I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He turns back to them. “And he owes me one, too, cause my knees are bruised to shit.”

Ellie finds herself blushing. A lot of people are staring at her now.

“Well, you know what, Ellie?” says Grayson. “It’s starting to sound like we ought to have a longer conversation. Let’s retreat to my office. And Dunford,” he points at the captain, “I hope you don’t expect some kind of special credit for this.”

“I most certainly do,” says Dunford with a smirk. “For my men, too.”

“Nope!” says Grayson, walking toward the back of the stage. “I doubt it.”

“Well.” It’s Abby. Her jaw is too tight. She gestures for Ellie to follow. “Come on, then, Chosen One.”

* * *

Grayson’s office instantly reminds Ellie of Maria’s. It’s midsized, a nice rug and lots of varnished wood. There are full book shelves on both walls, and a wide window behind the desk. It’s a beautiful view, actually. You can see the whole coastal town nestled into the hills above the water. Lots of that deep blue Pacific, too. The sun is out now, and the water gleams.

“Go ahead and sit down, Ellie,” says Grayson. He gestures to the two chairs in front of the desk. Still a bit uncomfortable, Ellie takes one. Dunford sits in the other.

Grayson is putting something in his desk drawer. He looks upward, toward the door. “Ah… Andersen.”

“Sir, if you don’t mind,” says Abby, “I’d prefer to stay.”

Grayson frowns.

“Ellie recognized her, too,” says Dunford, “on the dock. Seems they have a sort of… history. Got a bit tense for a minute, in fact.”

“Is that a fact?” asks Grayson. “Funny, you never mentioned that part, Andersen.”

Abby looks sheepish.

“I wonder what else you didn’t tell us… Doesn’t matter for now.” Grayson gestures, and Abby closes the door.

Ellie swallows. She keeps thinking about Clint.

Grayson sits mightily in his high backed chair, arms in the rests. Almost like he’s hitting the lounge chair after a long day’s work. He stops short of kicking his feet up, though.

“Well, hell, Ellie. We might just do this thing.”

“Do you have a doctor?” she asks anxiously.

“Not here, no,” says Grayson, “but we have one on the way.”

“Where from?”

“Japan, actually.” He points to a world map on the wall.

“No way…” Ellie’s mouth hangs open.

“It’s true.”

“There are Fireflies in Japan?”

Grayson chuckles. “No, not Fireflies. Different organization. Same mission. Shiro Hebi. White Snake.”

“How could you possibly hook up with them?”

“There’s a dish up on the hill over yonder. Villanueva Orbital Communications Center. Still works, if you juice it. It’s allowed us to collect a smattering of contacts all over the world. Some language issues, since they don’t always have an English speaker and so far we’ve yet to recruit someone who speaks Turkish. But I've got some nice friends in Morocco who promise they’ll make me the finest tajine I’ve ever had—which is none, for the record—if we just mosey on over there and help them liberate Rabat. Which will not be happening any time soon, unfortunately for them. Point is, we’ve made new friends.”

“And they’re sending their doctor all the way over here?” Ellie asks. “To help us?”

He frowns. “To help us?” He leans forward. “Ellie, once we’re done with a bona fide cure, it’s going worldwide.”

“How?” she asks. She finds herself leaning forward too.

“Well, that’s pretty damn complex. I could talk to you about freighter restoration, convoy operation, terms and trade deals, new recruitment, tit for tat and the whole strategic matrix. That’s what we’ve been spending a lot of our manpower on, out here in the lonely old blue. It’s been busywork, to be frank, until such a day as today.”

He smiles, genuinely. “But not anymore.”

Ellie is clasping the ends of her arm rests. She relaxes her hands. She glances over at Dunford, who seems tentative about the whole thing. Her eyes find Abby’s without meaning to. She’s leaned up against the wall, arms crossed. Her body language is defensive, but she can’t hide the eager hope in her eyes.

Ellie turns back to Grayson. “When does the doctor arrive?”

His smile grows. “As it happens, Dr. Watanabe is expected to make landfall next week. Isn’t that funny?”

Ellie feels a little dizzy. It could happen. It could really happen, and soon.

And she knows what that means.

“He’s coming here?” her voice is a little dry.

“Nope, he will be making landfall somewhere South of Bodega Bay, from whence he and his sizable unit will travel overland to rendezvous with us in the San Joaquin Valley. And from there, we will push into Sacramento.”

“What’s in Sacramento?”

“The UC Davis Medical Center. He was very particular about the equipment he would need on hand. Stuff that’s not easy to find anymore. Even Saint Mary’s didn’t have all the shit he wanted. We tried to talk him down…” he scratches his short beard ruefully. “Ended up launching our largest operation in years. After considerable toil and loss of life, my team found the Med Center intact, and defensible. Some trouble in the area… But when we hit, we’re hitting heavy and hot.”

Ellie nods. She looks at her lap. Her hands are all bruised up. One of her fingernails is purple. She plays with her thumbnail. She looks at Grayson. “So what now?”

“Well,” he replies, “ _I_ will be getting back to work. Got a lot more now that you’ve showed up. I’ll need to raise Watanabe, too. He’s gonna go ballistic when he finds out we’re bringing an immune with us. We leave, as it happens, in three days’ time.” He laughs again. “Is that a miracle or what? Still don’t believe in fate, Dunford?”

The captain smiles dimly and shakes his head.

“Well…” Grayson looks at Ellie. “ _You,_ I imagine, will take a hot meal and get some recuperation, after what you’ve been through. Which is what, I wonder. You came here from Jackson?”

She blinks. “You knew I was in Jackson?”

“Abby did, yeah.”

Ellie glances at her. Abby looks back, but her face reveals nothing.

“Once we were established in Sacramento, you were our best lead. We might have collected you sooner, but we feared resistance from Jackson, and we simply did not have the manpower to take you by force. And even if we did, we couldn’t risk you dying in the effort. But… shit, once again. I can’t believe you walked in our door like that.” His brow furrows. “How many did you leave Jackson with?”

Ellie didn’t expect the question. “Well, just me and Clint.”

His eyebrows jump up. “Just you two? And you both made it, all this way?”

Ellie nods. “We’re careful.”

“I’ll damn well say! Shit!” He supports his jaw on his fist. “Could use soldiers like you two, once this is over.”

Ellie’s brow pinches for an instant. _He doesn’t know_?

“And that’s all I have for you, Ellie.”

She nods. Then she realizes she needs to get out of their hair. She nods again.

“Anything from you, James?”

Dunford regards Ellie. “Not really.”

“We read your note,” says Ellie suddenly.

Dunford’s brow furrows, thinking for a few seconds. “You were in Portland?”

She nods. “For the record, your blessing was worth even less than your sympathy.”

He guffaws. “Well, apparently you didn’t need either one. But you still have both of them.”

“You got your people here okay?”

“Yes. Yes I did. Just like you, it would seem.” He regards Grayson. “No, I don’t believe in miracles. But I’ve got a healthy appreciation for good old fashioned luck.”

“Me too,” says Ellie.

Grayson is watching her. There’s a sadness somewhere in his smile. “Abby?” he says. He looks at her. “Anything from you?”

Abby is watching Ellie, arms still crossed. Expression cold, and otherwise unreadable. “Nope.”

“Then you will have no problem escorting Ellie to her temporary chambers.”

Abby’s eyes snap to Grayson, then to Ellie. She fumbles for words for a second. “Yes, sir,” she says reluctantly.

When they stand, Dunford gestures and leads Ellie out the door first. When Ellie looks back, Abby is having an inaudible conversation with Grayson.

“Ellie,” Dunford says.

She looks at him. He’s not wearing the eyes of a captain, now. They’re softer.

“Sorry about not leaving you a boat.”

She scoffs. “I don’t blame you. You had to take care of your people.” She looks past him. Grayson is close to Abby, talking in low tones. Between the half-heard dialogue and his mouth movements, she can make out a question.

_Blood between you?_

“You came by land, then? The whole way?” Dunford asks.

Ellie snaps out of it. “That’s right.”

“Wow. And I bet you didn’t know where you were going when you left Jackson. How could you? How much of the country would you say you traveled?”

She thinks. “About half, I guess.”

“Wow,” he says again. He rubs his chin. “You know Ellie, I’m an old man, right?”

She smiles. “You’re not that old.”

“Not pre-outbreak, no. These days… Ellie, you won’t like this but I’m gonna say it anyway. If this was pre-outbreak, do you know what I’d be seeing, as someone my age, looking at someone your age? ‘Specially if I was your dad?”

She doesn’t know so she doesn’t say anything.

“A little girl.” His eyes are a cool blue, and there are creases worn into his forehead, eyes, and cheeks. “A young woman, at best. Instead, I’m looking at someone with the guts, the grit, and the bloodied wisdom to travel across this hell-wracked country with a sole companion.”

She feels small again and she doesn’t like it. She doesn’t know what to say.

He leans in. “And if we’re successful here, in this thing… Maybe someday, a hundred years from now, two hundred, things can go back to the way they were before. Because I believe kids should be allowed to be kids.”

With that, he pats her shoulder and walks away down the hall. Ellie’s still digesting that when all of the sudden Abby is standing in front of her.

They’re both surprised again, for a second. Then Abby’s eyes find their cool.

“After me,” she says.

* * *

Abby’s braid sways slightly as she walks in front of Ellie. It’s just the two of them. Abby’s boots make _clump_ sounds every time they strike the carpeted floor. For some reason the wall lamps aren’t lit in this section of the hallway, and the windows are sparser. It’s uncomfortably dim.

Ellie clears her throat. “I want to see Clint.”

“You’ll see him soon enough.”

Ellie wrings her hands. She had told herself a hundred times last night that Clint was going to be okay. But she needs to see it. She needs to know she was right.

The curved hallway circling the building opens into a sitting area with a wide window. There are plastic plants flanking it. Abby stops halfway across the room.

Ellie stops too. “What are you doing?”

“That’s your room.” Abby gestures with her head to a door along the outer wall, just past the open area. Her gun is slung over her shoulder now, arms down by her sides. Her right fist clenches in a familiar way.

Ellie’s starting to get nervous. She takes a half step back. Abby wouldn’t… she wouldn’t do anything. Not ever everything she and Clint had been through. Not after that conversation.

“Abby, I want to see Clint. I don’t need food, or rest, not before I see him.”

“Ellie…” She sounds exasperated. She takes a deep breath, and sighs. She walks over to the window and crosses her arms again.

She doesn’t say anything. While the silence carries on, Ellie thinks about going into her room just long enough for Abby to leave. Then suddenly Abby starts speaking, and when she does, it is loud and plain.

“You might not like this, and I sure don’t want to do it, but Grayson was right. It should be now.”

Ellie shifts her weight uncomfortably. “W… What are you talking about?”

Abby turns her head so Ellie can see her profile. “I don’t know Ellie, is there anything you think I might want to say? Does nothing come to mind?”

Ellie starts picking at her nails again.

“You know,” Abby continues, “that was the first time I ever addressed you by name. I’m not sure I like how it feels.” She tilts her head idly, looking out at the seagulls over the water. She sighs again.

“Do you remember what it smelled like?”

Abby waits for an answer. Ellie is frantically thinking about how to get out of this, that she doesn’t know what Abby is talking about, when Abby shatters that possibility.

“The pillars?”

Ellie swallows. If she were honest, she can see and smell that filth-smeared sand right that very instant.

“Blood, and shit, and rot,” Abby says. “Those guys were really monsters. You stray into their territory? You’re a slave. You say the wrong thing, to the wrong person? You get the shit beaten out of you. You try to escape? They cut pieces off you. You kill a couple of them?”

At that, she has a particular reaction. She bunches up her shoulders, takes a breath, and releases it. “Then up you go.”

“And it might not be so bad…” she scratches her jaw. “Your arms hurt, ooh, they hurt. But then you stop feeling your arms. Your legs hurt, bad, but you stop feeling your legs. You’re hungry, thirsty. But you’ve been those things before. But they’re clever… they’re so clever, how they do it. Because then you look up, and you watch Lev dying…” Her voice finally breaks. She wipes away a tear.

“And that just keeps on going.”

Ellie’s not moving anymore. She’s just witnessing with haunted eyes.

 _Lev_. The one whose throat she’d been ready to cut, while he lay there like a sleeping boy.

“After Seattle, he was all that I had,” says Abby. “We’re family now. Blood, practically. Watching him die was like…” Words seem to fail her. Her arms tighten across her chest and she shakes her head, several times.

“You spared me from that,” expels Abby, finally turning on her. The tears in her eyes are almost more than Ellie can take. Abby unfolds her arms. She bares her teeth and points at Ellie, cheek twitching. She prods at her once, twice. But she doesn’t say anything. In the end, she closes her lips and pulls her finger back into a fist, lowering her arm. She takes one last breath.

“And for that, and that alone, you have my forgiveness.”

The sounds of her boots echo as she walks out of the room and down the hall, out of sight.


	17. Both Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's tough, but if I had to pick, I would say that this is my favorite chapter. Enjoy.

After Abby walked away, Ellie had sat in her room for twenty minutes, contemplating life. Then there was a knock on her door, and a woman with dark eyes and tied up hair had brought her a tray of warm food. It wasn’t the best, but it had meat.

Ellie’s room wasn’t huge, but it is probably still the nicest she’s ever had. It had dark red carpet, and goldenrod drapes in front of the window with a fabulous view of the open ocean, the California coast in the distance. The bed is huge, with a thick comforter covered in embroidery. Seems like she’d smother under it.

After she ate she pulled herself together and found her way to the infirmary herself. There were no guards, so she just wandered in.

It’s a long, rectangular room that looks like it used to be a garage. There are large roll-up doors along the left side, and the floor is all polished concrete. There are at least thirty beds, but most are empty. She sees a familiar pair of boots behind one of the curtains dividing the beds. She walks over.

When she comes around the corner and sees Clint, he’s completely limp in the bed, eyes closed. She panics for a second. Then she sees he’s hooked up to an IV. She walks over, holding a hand over him but not touching him.

“He’s just sleeping, you know.”

Ellie looks up, and there’s a young woman in scrubs. She has brown eyes and dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She’s holding a clipboard. She’s cute.

“He’s not…” Ellie starts.

She frowns. “He’s not what?”

“Infected?” Ellie asks, swallowing.

The woman laughs. When she sees Ellie’s face, she gets sober again. “No, he’s not infected. We wouldn’t have hooked him up to an IV if he was.”

“What would you have done?”

The woman screws up her lips. “Let’s not talk about that. You’re Ellie, aren’t you?”

“You know my name already?”

“Word travels fast. You’re kind of a big deal.”

Ellie frowns, looking at Clint.

“We scanned him when he came in,” the nurse says. “He’s okay. He was pretty beat up, though, and dehydrated. You guys really got in a scrap, didn’t you?”

Ellie’s only half listening as she releases a deep sigh of relief. There are clean bandages over the bullet wound in his chest. She runs her thumb over it. There’s no visible blood. “You’re gonna need new glasses, aren’t you?”

When Ellie looks up, the nurse is still watching her with a little smile. Ellie’s a little embarrassed. “Are you two together?” the nurse asks.

Ellie doesn’t follow for a second. Then she retracts. “What? No. No, we’re not together.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“And if word travels fast, will you do me a favor and send that around too?”

“Um… I guess, if you’re asking.”

Ellie looks Clint over. He’s out cold. “You had to sedate him?”

She laughs. “Sedate him? Ellie, he was exhausted. He said you guys were on a boat all night, in the storm. Yikes. As soon as he was done eating he passed out. I’m surprised you’re still awake.” She tilts her head. “Ellie, you should get looked at, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah? You one of those types?”

Ellie pinches her brow.

“You’re always fine? I had a guy come in with three bullet holes in him one time. He tried to insist he was fine, kept asking about his friend.”

“I just need…” Honestly, thinking about it, looking at Clint sleeping, rest is starting to sound pretty damn nice.

The nurse twists her lips. “Well, tell you what, it’s not exactly regulation, but if you fall asleep in that bed next to his, I’ll make sure they don’t bother you.”

Ellie starts nodding. “Okay. Thank you.”

The nurse smiles. “Take care now.” She walks away.

They cleaned the dirt and sweat off him somehow. He looks about fifteen, sleeping like that. Like when she first met him.

She thinks about when she sat down across from him and his waffle sandwich. She had taken one look and thought _there’s no way this guy’s up for this thing. No way he makes it._

And she’d kept being afraid of that to this very second.

“Know what, Clint?” she says. “You didn’t do half bad.” She gives him a little punch on the shoulder.

“Not half bad.”

* * *

The metal table is icy cold under her back. The hospital gown is not helping much.

Ellie’s nervous, trembling. The light in her face is so strong, she can barely see anything.

She looks over to Abby, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, looking for help, but she doesn’t find any.

“You asked for this,” Abby says.

Joel nods silently in agreement from his chair.

Ellie looks down. Dr. Andersen is face down on the operating room floor, in a pool of blood.

“Yeah,” says Abby, “I bet you wish it was him.”

“Don’t worry,” says a voice that chills her from her fingertips to her spine. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

She can’t see him, the light is so bright, then his face appears before her. Her stomach twists in horror.

“Easy now, Ellie,” says David, some gleaming, twisted instrument in his hand. “It’ll be over so quick.” He giggles. “Tiny little pieces…”

* * *

Ellie starts awake, not breathing again. Her gut feels cold. She rattles out some breath.

“Ellie?”

It’s Clint. He’s still laying in his bed with a tray of food in his lap. “You alright?”

Ellie groans as she pulls herself into a sitting position, trying to shake off sleep and the nightmare. “Ugh, I guess.” She rubs her eye. “You sure seem fucking comfortable.”

He looks around for a second at the infirmary, his bed, and his food, considering. “I am.”

Ellie scoffs. “Where’s my food, then?”

“This isn’t,” the nurse says, rounding the curtain by Clint’s bed, “a hotel, you know. Healthy people get their own food.”

“Healthy?” says Ellie. “Look at me, I’m all fucked up!”

The nurse laughs. It’s a nice sound. “Oh, yeah. Well, too bad, because I officially discharge you.” She waves her hand as if performing magic.

“Ugh,” says Ellie. “Well, is Clint free to go? Or do I have to go by myself?”

Clint picks up his tray as if he’s about to climb out of bed right there. He’s still hooked up to the IV, though.

The nurse frowns. “Well, I suppose. You two are pretty hardy, aren’t you?”

“Most definitely,” says Clint. He reaches for his IV, to the nurse’s instant admonishment. He lets her remove it.

The nurse has Clint go over to a desk by the front to do some kind of paperwork.

“Hey,” says Ellie as soon as he’s gone. The nurse looks up, taken aback. “You know my name, but I never got yours.”

She’s got smooth, light brown skin and brown eyes with a touch of green. Her hair is straight, dark and lustrous, her ponytail reaching past her shoulders. “Mara,” she says.

“Well, Mara, thanks for taking care of Clint. He was all I had out there.”

“It’s what we do here.” Her voice is soft and kind.

“I bet.” Ellie sniffs looking out the little windows. The light says the sun must be setting. They slept all day. “You know, I’m glad to be here. Not much but cold comfort out on the road.”

Mara nods, a little confused.

“Now I’ve got a warm, comfortable room, with a big old bed, all the sudden. It’s unbelievable.”

“Yeah?” says Mara, narrowing her eyes. “That’s better than what I got, to be honest.”

Ellie nods. “Yeah, it’s not far from the auditorium. Room 6b.”

Mara’s confused for a second, then her eyes widen. “Wait, what?”

Ellie doesn’t say anything. Just keeps looking back.

Mara giggles, blushing all the sudden. “Um… wow. Ellie, I’m not really…”

Ellie gestures with her face, as if for Mara to continue. “You’re not? Are you sure? Because you don’t seem sure.”

Mara smiles as if not meaning to. She looks over her shoulder. “Oh my god, Ellie, stop it.” Ellie’s pretty sure she’s eating it up.

“Hey, Ellie,” says Clint. He’s still holding his tray, oblivious like the dummy he is. Ellie gives him a look and he’s confused, then embarrassed.

_You are so fucking obvious, asshole._

Mara’s smirking. “Better go on now, Ellie. Wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Guess I’d better,” she grumbles.

She slugs Clint in the arm after they turn the corner.

There are only a couple older guys in the cafeteria when they get there. It’s a high-ceilinged room with maybe twenty tables in it, pretty big. There’s a metal counter at the back. A man with an apron and a bandana tied around his head stands behind it. When he sees them, he scowls.

“Hey, feeding hours are over! What are you two doing here? Who are you?”

Clint hesitates but Ellie keeps walking to the counter. “Hungry,” she says.

“Oh…” he says, looking her up and down. “It’s you, isn’t it, princess? Oh, yeah, how can I say no to royalty?”

She really wants to tell him not to call her ‘princess,’ but she can’t give him the satisfaction. “That’s right.”

“We threw almost all the food out already,” he says, head tilted.

“You guys throw out food?!” she exclaims.

He scoffs. “Man, you guys really have been roughing it. Fine, you can have what’s left.”

‘What’s left’ ends up being a couple rolls and some kind of vegetable patty that’s browned on the outside, and basically mush in the middle. It looks gross, but it’s actually savory and satisfying when she bites into it. And the guy is clearly all bark, because he gives her a little butter and some red sauce to go with the patty that turns out to be decent ketchup.

Clint is finished long before Ellie. He’s sitting there with his elbows on the steel tabletop.

“You just gonna watch me eat?” Ellie asks.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

Ellie shrugs, and takes another bite of the roll.

“You think we’re safe here?” Clint asks.

She didn’t expect the question. She pinches her brow and nods, chewing. She finds herself thinking of Marlene. She swallows. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure we’d be safe here even if my brain wasn’t the last hope of humanity.” She spreads more butter on her roll. “Long as we follow orders.”

“Gotta be honest, Ellie,” says Clint. “I’m thankful to be here, but I’m not sure the actual soldier life is for me. I mean, this has been one hell of an adventure, but I’d prefer to get back to Jackson in one piece to actually tell people about it.”

“You will,” says Ellie.

“And you?” asks Clint.

He doesn’t have a clear reason to ask that. And Ellie knows he still doesn’t know, what’s going to happen to her. She should tell him.

She takes a bite of buttered roll. He’s still waiting for a response. She frowns and shakes her head.

“As if you would make it back on your own?”

He snorts. “What I’m getting at… it feels safe for now, but we don’t know what’s going to happen from here.”

“I do, actually,” says Ellie. She tells him what Grayson told her in his office.

“Holy shit… That soon?” He laughs, breaking into a big smile. “That’s amazing! Right?” He raises his hand for a high five.

She leaves him hanging. She shakes her head, managing a solid half smile.

“Isn’t that amazing?” he asks. He lowers his hand. “Why aren’t you with me?”

“Ah…” She scratches the side of her head. “I don’t know. You’re right, it’s so soon. It’s almost… I don’t know, anticlimactic? Maybe I don’t believe it yet… I mean, we don’t know the doctor is going to get to Sacramento safely, right?”

Clint scratches his lip. “I mean, I guess not, no. Man, you’re a tough nut to crack.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that so she says nothing.

“Ellie?” Clint starts. “Do you not want this to happen?”

With considerable willpower, she keeps her emotions off her face. Clint is getting too close. He can read her too well. She takes a breath, puts her elbows on the table and looks him in the eye.

“I’m scared,” she says.

“Scared of what?”

His concern is so annoying. She screws up her lips. “I’m scared it won’t work.”

Clint nods in understanding. “Right. Duh. There are no guarantees here. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” she says. “You got me here.”

“I got you here?” He acts taken aback. “That’s a surprising amount of credit.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she says.

His look lingers for a second, then he looks down at his lap, a little smile on his face. “I am,” he says.

Once they’re done, the cook takes their trays with a now-familiar lack of grace, and they walk back to their rooms. Turns out they’re down the hall from each other.

“I can’t believe you ruined my chances with Mara,” says Ellie. They’re standing in the hallway, almost completely dark, but for the moonlight coming in through the window.

“Well…” he starts, in an apparent attempt to defend himself. He scratches his head. “Sorry?”

She smiles, and gives him a little punch on the shoulder. “Think you can go back to sleep?”

“Honestly,” he says, “yes.”

“Me too, I hope.”

“Night, Ellie.”

“Night, dummy.”

Sadly, sleep doesn’t come for Ellie. The nightmare picks at her from the back of her mind. She finds herself trying to imagine what Dr. Watanabe looks like.

There’s a little lamp next to her bed that works. She keeps it on, preferring it to the darkness. She can hear the waves through her window.

Sometime later, she’s not sure how long, there’s a knock at her door so quiet she thinks she might have imagined it.

She gets up and walks to the door. When she opens it, it’s Mara. She looks surprised, for some reason. She collects herself.

“Can’t sleep?” Mara asks.

“Lucky you,” says Ellie. She holds the door open.

Mara gives her a look, but she steps inside, and Ellie closes the door behind her.

* * *

_I’m good. Ellie’s good. Can’t ask for much more. She was scared too, I could tell. That I was infected. God. That was a nightmare, at the end, with the shambler. And everything that came before it. That was the worst situation we were in since we left Jackson, except maybe Portland. Jeez, Grand Junction was bad too. But we still made it. Thank God._

_These beds are amazing. Best mattress I ever slept on, probably. I think they gave us some of the best rooms they have. I forgot what a good night of sleep felt like. Well, mostly good._

_I had another nightmare. In the infirmary, too. Basically me in that wet pit, with the shambler. I can see the ocean, but I can’t get to it. And there’s one other key difference. Ellie’s not there._

_I am so fucking thankful that we made it alright. I assumed Ellie would feel the same, but she’s… Still on edge. I mean, she’s in relatively good spirits. Probably the best since we left Jackson. Shit, she didn’t waste any time hitting on Mara. Was I supposed to see that coming? I felt like such a jackass._

_Still, though. Something’s bothering her. She told me she’s scared it won’t work. They won’t be able to make the cure with her as a subject. Or specimen, technically. Doubt she’d like that word, though._

_And I believe that, that scares me, too. Kind of a burden, I guess. Carrying all that hope. The Fireflies probably carry that, too. Those that really believe, anyway. Grayson must carrying a lot._

_Ellie told me he seems like a good leader. Apparently he’s the God-fearing kind of guy. She told me what he said when he first found out she was the one. Kind of sorry I missed it._

_Well, he didn’t hesitate to put me to work. Thought I’d get at least one more day of rest, but no, Montes has been short-handed all month. They literally had me hauling logs up a hill with his guys! We probably stacked up five dozen for their new building project. And you know what’s funny? At lunch, Maria told me they probably won’t ever use them, since everyone’s fucking shipping out to Sacramento anyway. What the fuck._

_Gotta have orders to eat, she said. Nice. The Fireflies are alright, but I’ll take Jackson any day of the week._

_Still… I keep thinking about Ellie. Something tells me she’s hiding something. I mean, it’s felt like that since she sat across the table from me in Jackson, but a lot of that has gone away as she’s opened up. To the extent she has opened up, anyway._

_[Scribbles.]_

_I don’t expect her to ever trust me like she trusts Dina or the other people she’s been close to. Most of whom are dead. I can’t make her and I wouldn’t if I could. So I’ll just do what I can. I’ll be there._

_Evening mess is almost up. Until next time._

* * *

Ellie would prefer going to mess with Clint, but she has no idea when he’s getting back from work detail. So she walks into the cafeteria full of strangers by herself.

She’d spent the day wandering around the building. She had tried to leave and explore town, only for the guards to stop her. They informed her they were under strict orders not to let her off the grounds. That had been pretty annoying, but if she were Grayson she would have done the same thing.

She’d tried to hunt him down to get him to loosen the leash, but he was out and about all day. She’d ended up finding a way onto the roof and just watched the seagulls and town in the distance. People milled about, buying things, eating food from the vendors. Their gait is slow, casual. The manner of people who believe they’re safe. They seem like civilians. The Fireflies have grown something here. Down the coast a ways there’s a beach, and she can see a couple families playing in the sand and water.

She read through a few of her Savage Starlight comics. It felt strange, to have time as her only obstacle.

When she got bored, she’d snooped a bit. There wasn’t much juicy stuff, though. She overheard a few things, listening to radio chatter from the other side of a door. Teams were being recalled from different parts of the island. Patrols would be reduced to an extent, but not eliminated. About half their forces would stay on the island to defend the civilians there. The rest and much of their gear and vehicles would be joining the caravan to Sacramento, over land.

They kept referring to her as ‘the asset,’ which was a strange feeling.

With regular access to food, she might have eaten more, but people are only given three meals a day, no exceptions. Breakfast had been pretty good, but for lunch, she had taken a piece of weird meatloaf-ish stuff that had been totally gross.

She notices a couple glances her way when she walks into the caf, but she’s largely ignored. There’s a line for dinner. Then she notices who is at the back of it. She guesses not everyone here is a stranger.

It would make sense for her to leave and come back later, but if she’s being honest, sometimes Ellie does things for reasons she doesn’t quite grasp. And this is one of those moments.

She walks up and taps Abby on the shoulder.

When Abby turns and sees her, her eyes go wide for a second. An effect Ellie doesn’t guess is going to end anytime soon. But she found the list of people going to Sacramento, and Abby is on it. One way or the other, she’s going to have to get used to it.

“I need your help,” Ellie says.

“How?” Abby replies.

“I found out today that the food here is highly hit or miss.”

Abby’s jaw is tight, but she cocks an eyebrow. “You’re right about that.”

“I’d prefer to hit.”

“Follow my lead, then.”

Ellie nods, then she notices that someone standing right next to them is watching her as well. When she recognizes him, it’s a shock.

He’s maybe sixteen now. He’s got a handsome face, with two long scars going from the corner of his lips across his cheeks. His hair is black and straight, mid-length with a clean part on the right side. It reminds her of Jesse’s, but more kempt. He’s wearing the green canvas jacket and trousers of a soldier.

It’s a far cry from how he’d looked when he’d lain in that boat, with Ellie’s knife on his throat.

“I’m Lev,” he says nonchalantly. When Ellie doesn’t immediately reply, he reaches out and takes her hand, shaking it.

“Ellie,” she says, uncomfortable. Abby is watching her with another unreadable expression. Her eyes move to the side for a second and she winces.

“Danny acts like he’s mean, but he’s not,” says Lev. “He’s also the best cook.”

“Is that bandana?” Ellie asks.

“Yep, that’s him. Hector is mean, and a terrible cook. You probably ate something he made.”

“I’ll appreciate your guidance, then.”

Abby’s silent as they slowly make their way up the line, but Lev won’t stop talking. He asks her about their journey. Ellie starts with a summary, but he asks for more and more detail. He pays pretty rapt attention.

Ellie’s not sure how to figure him. He seems totally unassuming. He’s also honest, to the point of bluntness.

“You promised to protect her? And you just left her there?” Ellie’s stomach turns. She had just told him about Clara. She thought about leaving her out, but it hadn’t seemed right, somehow. It’s not a memory she’s fond of. “Yes, Lev. We did. I didn’t want to. And Clint promised her safety, not me. And if we had tried to protect her—“

“There’s a good chance it would have gotten you killed.” It’s Abby. She looks at Lev. “It’s hard, but that’s what we would have done, too.”

Lev frowns. “I’m not sure about that.”

They finally get to the front of the line, and Ellie only takes things Abby or Lev take. They sit at an empty table at the back of the cafeteria.

Abby’s pretty reticent, not looking at Ellie. Ellie doesn’t blame her. Abby’s face makes her feel some type of way. Ellie’s trying to make this work, but it is not what she is good at. Lev, on the other hand, seems perfectly in his element.

“Do you have someone special waiting for you back in Jackson?” Lev asks.

Ellie blushes. “Not… not really.”

“What happened?”

“Huh?” Ellie asks.

“If there were no one, you would have said no. But you said ‘not really.’”

Ellie’s blush deepens. What’s with this kid? “I kind of messed up with her.”

Lev blinks. “What did you do?”

“I left Jackson.”

“Oh. Did you tell her why?”

“I did. She wasn’t convinced.”

“Oh. I understand. It’s kind of hard to believe. Back in Seattle, we called the infected demons.”

‘We.’ He’s talking about the Scars, she can tell. That’s why his cheeks are like that.

“Pretty fitting,” Ellie says, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.

“We never imagined there could be something like a cure for it.”

“I’m not sure I have either,” Ellie admits.

“What about you, Abby?” Lev asks. “Have you thought about how things would be different with a cure?”

Abby’s staring at her tray. Her forearms are resting on the table. She resists looking up. Ellie swallows. This is harder for Abby than she thought.

With obvious effort, Abby works her lips. “Not really.” She sniffs. “Better, I guess.” She hasn’t eaten much of her food.

Abruptly, she gets up. “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling great. I’m going to take my food back to my room.”

Lev is obviously concerned, but he doesn’t try to stop her. Without another glance their way, Abby pushes right through the double doors and out of sight.

Ellie’s appetite has waned as well. She looks down at her green beans.

“Abby told me what she said to you yesterday,” says Lev. Ellie looks up sharply. “We’re very close, you know.”

“Blood, practically,” Ellie mumbles.

Lev seems to have heard her, and he nods. “We’ve seen a lot of that, too.”

Ellie swallows again. What is she even doing here?

“And so have you. Haven’t you, Ellie?”

The sounds in the cafeteria feel far away, now. Ellie finds herself breathing faster. She looks up at Lev, cautiously. He’s wearing the same neutral expression. He’s handsome, unjudging. Why does he feel kind of scary all of a sudden? She looks over her shoulder.

“No one else can hear us,” says Lev. “I was hoping for a chance to talk with you alone, in fact.”

Ellie feels cornered. _Like a loose tooth_ , she decides. _Better to pull it out all at once._

“Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I’ve seen a lot of blood.”

“Abby and I spent many nights alone together, on the boat. She told me many things about her past. But she only told me once. About Joel.”

Ellie’s eyes snap to him.

“She said it is her biggest regret.”

The bottom kind of drops out of Ellie and she hears a ringing sound. Then she hears something else. A man’s voice, in the distance. Screaming.

She feels something warm and it’s Lev’s hand, around hers. The one with missing fingers.

“We don’t have to talk about that, Ellie. But there is something you need to know.”

Aside from his scars, Lev’s skin is so young, and smooth. He’s practically a kid. How is he able to make her feel so helpless?

“You seem to have accepted Abby’s forgiveness, and that is very good. But that is not all. It goes both ways.”

Ellie blinks.

“It goes both ways, Ellie.”

Suddenly nauseous, Ellie says something, she doesn’t know what, about not feeling well and she abruptly gets up and walks out. She doesn’t even take her tray.

* * *

A stick breaks under Ellie’s foot. She pushes another branch out of her way. She can’t really see very well under the tree cover in the moonlight, but she knows how to navigate the wild.

She hadn’t even gone back to her room from the cafeteria. She’d gone to a window she’d spotted earlier that day, one she knew she could sneak out from based on the outside guard patterns. She’d snuck around some vehicles, and now she was outside the perimeter of the casino ballroom. She wasn’t leaving. She just needed some space.

She hears another stick break and she jumps, but then she pushes on. She knows it’s her head, fucking with her.

She’s not in a good place.

Somehow, Lev had reached right into her past and brought all of the ugliness back to the surface. Like stirring up the bottom of a settled pond. Now everything’s murky again.

“Ellie?” she hears someone call her. But she knows they’re not real, because it’s Jesse’s voice.

She’s shivering, but she’s not cold. She finds herself wondering, insanely, how long she could stay out here, undiscovered. Forever, maybe.

_It goes both ways, Ellie._

“The fuck do I care!” she screams. Some birds take flight from a nearby tree. Ellie almost stumbles over a loose stone. She pushes through more branches.

Abby forgave her. Apparently. Supposedly. Good for her. What the hell does Ellie have to be sorry for?

She doesn’t say anything, but Ellie senses her. She looks over. Mel’s face is just visible in the moonlight, a few feet away. She’s staring at Ellie, incredulous, stunned. The same face she’d worn when she and Owen had first seen her.

She screams again, wordless. She pushes through another bush. She’s panting. Scowling. Suddenly, she whimpers.

“What did I do wrong?” she asks no one.

She hears Jesse again, in the distance. “It’s not about what you did.”

She shakes her head, grimacing. She keeps on going. When she hears Jesse again, he’s too far away to make out clearly. But she knows what he’s saying.

_It’s about what Abby did._

Her chest is pounding. She can hear screams, always on the other side of a wall. She’s been hearing them off and on since the caf. Like she always hears them, when things start to get heavy.

She makes a shuddering, gasping sound. She’s crying now.

“No…” she groans. She feels like she’s going to lose control. She doesn’t want to lose control.

Then something just kind of snaps in her. And the night becomes silent.

She’s standing there, trembling. She can feel it. She doesn’t know what it is, but she knows it’s the last thing in the world she wants to see. She looks up.

He’s maybe ten feet away. In the shadow of a tree, she can only make out his outline. But if she could see his face, she knows it would be a bloody horror.

“You forgave me,” he says, deep voice as clear as day.

She collapses to her knees, tears falling into the wet, dark loam.

* * *

Abby hadn’t finished her food. It’s growing cold, in her room, right now. Sometimes Abby just knows she needs to move her legs, so she walked right out the front doors. The guards had been uneasy, but she told them she was taking a walk in terms that brooked no further conversation.

She flexes her right arm. She’s not angry, and she knows it, but sometimes it feels better to be angry than… the other thing.

As she’s stomping down the road toward the beach, she sees someone coming up toward her. From his outline she recognizes Olsen. She turns her head, pinching her lips. She is not in the mood to talk to anyone right now, so she heads the conversation off.

“If you see Grayson, tell him I needed to take five.” When she’s about to pass him and she sees his surprised face, she realizes it’s not Olsen at all. It’s that kid Ellie brought with her. Clint.

They both stop, staring at each other.

“Uh…” he starts. “Okay.”

Still surprised, she can’t think of a response. But it’s too late for her not to say anything. It’s really awkward.

“I guess you’re not infected after all,” she says.

“Guess not.” He says. He runs a hand over his other arms, the still healing cuts along them. “You know, when it happened, we ended up in the ocean, on the beach. Ellie pushed me into the water. She even held me under for a bit. Afterward, she said she was trying to wash it away.” He chuckles and scratches the back of the head. “Didn’t make a lot of sense, but maybe it worked.”

Abby knows her eyes are wide. That particular piece of information is making her feel… she doesn’t know what.

“Um…” Clint starts. “I wanted to say… I guess I wanted to say thanks for giving us the benefit of the doubt?”

Abby’s brow pinches. “What?”

“I mean,” he continues, “I know you guys have a history. Neither one of us expected to see you on that pier, obviously… I just feel like it could have gone a lot worse.”

Abby makes a sound. Why the fuck is this happening? Why is any of this happening, like this?

“That’s not really what’s important now,” she ends up saying.

Clint nods impotently.

“I gotta go,” Abby says, continuing down the road.

“Abby,” Clint says. She stops, turning. His mouth is open, like he wants to talk but the words aren’t there yet.

“Ellie isn’t bad,” he spits out. “I know you think she is. And I know she’s done a lot of bad things. More than I know about…” He looks down, massaging the palm of his hand with his thumb. “And sometimes I think she thinks she’s bad… But she’s not. I don’t think she ever could be. I just don’t…”

He looks up, screwing up his lips. “I’ve traveled with her for months. She’s got edges, that’s for sure. She’s been cut up by an ugly world, and she’s learned to survive in it like no one else I’ve ever met. She knows when to be fast, sneaky, hard, even cold. But she’ll never be… bad. Otherwise, why would we have come all this way?”

He waits then, but Abby doesn’t say anything.

“We almost died like a dozen times,” he says. “It was her idea, you know. To find you guys. She wanted to go alone. Maria made her take me. And I don’t regret a mile of it.”

He sniffs. The breeze is light, and relatively warm that evening. The sun is finishing its setting, orange glow retreating over the hills above them.

In the end, Abby doesn’t say anything. She turns and continues down the hill. When she looks back, some time later, Clint is gone.

_Sometimes I think she thinks she’s bad._

Why does that sound so fucking familiar?

Thankfully, there’s no one on the beach. She marches down to the middle of it, and plunks down into the sand. She wraps her arms over her knees, and looks out over the water as the stars come out.

The sound of the waves, faithfully rushing up the sand toward her, ever receding, is peaceful. Reliable. A constant. Something only to be found in nature. Not in people. Abby takes a deep breath, trying to find her level again.

A lot of time passes. She doesn’t really know how long. She accepted she’d be in trouble with Grayson a while ago. He told her to keep an eye on Ellie. He doesn’t understand how complicated of an order that is. And she’s doing a pretty shit job.

The moon is full tonight. It’s drifting slowly out over the ocean in front of her. She rubs one of her thumbs over the other. It’s been long enough. She gets up and turns back toward the ballroom, and Ellie is standing a few feet away up the beach.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Abby exclaims, jumping back.

Ellie’s arms hang by her sides. Her eyes are kind of hooded, features slack. She looks…

Abby rubs her nose. Jesus Christ, she looks fucked up right now.

Ellie walks down through the sand in slow, plodding steps. She stops at a level with Abby, three feet away, looking down at the water with that hollow look on her face.

She’s scaring the shit out of Abby.

“Ellie,” Abby starts nervously. “You good?”

Ellie doesn’t respond.

Abby’s knees are slightly bent, hands out, diplomatic, defensive. “You’re kind of freaking me out.”

Ellie sniffs, glancing up at the moon.

Abby’s brow furrows. “Ellie, are you armed right now?”

Ellie finally looks at her. It suggests absurdity. “You’re that scared of me?”

“Yeah, well…” Abby doesn’t finish. “Are you?”

Ellie reaches into her pocket and pulls something out. She offers it to Abby. It’s a switchblade. Carefully, Abby takes it. When she looks down at in her hand in the moonlight, she knows it’s the one she’d used to open Owen’s throat.

“Joel was a bad man,” Ellie says, looking over the water. “In a lot of ways.”

The name makes Abby freeze. She stands there, watching.

“I know he thought he was bad, anyway. He started to turn things around in Jackson, but before that, he did some very bad things. I saw a lot of them with my own eyes. He taught me how to do them. And I know he did worse before he met me.”

The wave pushes up over the sand, darkening it, receding.

“But he also saved my life.” Ellie’s lips are parted. She’s staring at something a thousand miles away.

“He did it a few times, but there was one… there was one time. Really bad.” Ellie brings her arms up, cradling herself. Her eyes widen, and her breathing quickens. “Sometimes it’s blurry, fucked up. Sometimes it’s crystal clear. It’s crystal clear right now.

“David was on top of me. The building was burning. He said he was going to chop me up. He said he was going to… His eyes were…” Her face contorts, and she grimaces. “I’ve never felt anything so disgusting. Then I…” Most of her face goes slack, but her thousand yard stare is unbroken. She winces. “I did something even worse.”

She takes a long shuddering breath. “As soon as it was done, and I dropped the machete, sticky in my hand, I knew. A person doesn’t come back from that. That that is where I would die, in that flaming hell. That I would deserve to. And then all of a sudden, Joel was there, holding me.

“He told me he had me. He told me I would be okay. He called me ‘baby girl.’” Her voice wavers.

Her arms tighten around her, then she lets them go.

“After that, it was done. We’d been separate, one and one. Now, it was the two of us, together. Forever.”

She finally comes out of the spell, looking at Abby. There’s no animosity. Just a blank expression. “He lied to me, about Saint Mary’s.”

Abby’s limbs are cold. Her hands are trembling.

“He said they tried to make a cure and they couldn’t. I knew he was lying, but what was I going to do? It was the two of us. Forever. He’s all I had. So I just sat with it.” She looks over the water again. The stars are all out. “I found out the truth years later.”

“I didn’t forgive him for a long time. I hadn’t forgiven him when he died…”

A gust from the ocean rolls over them, tossing grains of sand from their little dunes.

_Abby, you’re done. End this._

And with Owen’s words, as always, the screams.

Abby’s left leg is shaking now. She can’t stop it.

Ellie doesn’t look at Abby, but she turns toward her a little. Her head tilts forward, hair falling, obscuring most of her face. Abby can see her lips pull back from her teeth, a little. It happens again. Then her mouth pulls into a full snarl. Her shoulders tense up. She reaches a point of maximum pressure, then she releases it. Ellie exhales, long and slow.

“That was the problem.” Ellie’s voice is gravelly. She looks up. “You were just the excuse. To be angry. So I didn’t have to feel the other thing.”

Ellie glances at something unseen, then her face completely contorts, and it makes Abby feel sick. Because she knows that feeling.

Anguish.

“So it had to be a lot of anger,” said Ellie. “A lot. That’s why I went to Seattle. That’s why no one could stand in my way.” There are tears in her eyes. She looks at Abby. “And I am so, fucking, sorry.”

Abby’s face is blank. The knife is clenched in a vice grip in her hand.

Ellie looks away. She grimaces as a tear rolls down her cheek. She works her mouth. Then she looks to the side, as if realizing something. She stops crying, but she doesn’t wipe the tears away. Her brow pinches slightly. She looks down, and starts picking at her nails.

“And I know why you did it,” she whispers.

Abby feels weak, then.

“My mom died when I was born. I never had anyone. Not until Joel. And when I lost him…” She trails off, then shakes her head. “But you lost yours first.” She lets go of her other hand and her arms fall to her sides. “And Joel probably deserved to die.” Her voice breaks.

“I don’t—“ Abby’s voice is choked. She doesn’t even know what she was going to say.

Ellie looks at her. She’s dazed, she almost looks drunk. It’s almost like… it’s almost like she’s looking at Abby for the first time.

“I don’t—“ Abby starts.

“I forgive you,” Ellie says.

The words hit Abby’s chest like a hammer, and she can’t breathe for a second. Ellie looks her up and down, looking more lucid now. Then she walks over, takes the knife gently from her hand, and walks up the beach.

The waves keep coming, in their timeless rhythm. They’re the only sound Abby hears for a long time. Thoughts try to get through, but nothing can really penetrate the pounding torrent running through her. She just keeps breathing. She just keeps breathing through it.

Eventually, one of the waves finally reaches far enough to lap her boot. She falls to one knee in the wet sand and finally begins to weep.


	18. Keepsake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I might take a second to solicit the reader for favorite scenes or moments in the story, if they have any. From any chapter. Anyway, enjoy.

The seagulls are kind of noisy, flapping about, fighting over bits of food down by the water. But it’s a nice sound, too.

Ellie leans against the railing of an upper balcony of the casino ballroom. Looking out over the morning sea. The sun burns a bright yellow over the LA coast, and its light dances on the countless wave caps.

Ellie feels good this morning. Last night had been… rough. But when she’d finally gotten back to her room, she’d been able to fall asleep and had slept all the way through the night, without dreams, for once. Earlier that morning, she’d run into Clint in the hallway. They’d eaten breakfast together before he had to go off to work. Today they were having him help load up the barges in preparation for launch, which was tomorrow.

He had that… concern all over him again. He’d asked about yesterday. He’d come around to her room and she wasn’t there.

“You went in without my permission?” she’d asked.

“You left it open,” he said defensively.

She’d scoffed.

For some reason, maybe because she was in such a good mood, she’d told him. Not about the forest part, but about her conversation with Abby. Both of them. He’d been a bit stunned.

“That’s… kind of incredible, Ellie.”

She’d nodded. But she didn’t have much more to say. They’d finished their meal largely in silence. It felt nice. She said her farewells, then went off to her day of having nothing to do.

And now she was here.

One of the seagulls had found a scrap of something in the sand and was picking at it. Another one came up and tried to buffet the first one away with its wings. The first one backed off, then came back and kicked at the second one with both feet. The interloper flew off. Ellie smiled.

“Hey,” she hears.

She turns to see Abby. She’s geared up for the day. She looks serious, but for the first time, she doesn’t react when she meets Ellie’s eyes. Ellie looks back over the water. “Morning.”

Abby walks up and joins her on the rail. They watch the seagulls tussle for a while, until Abby breaks the silence.

“Montes calls them sky rats.”

“Oh,” says Ellie, “they beat rats any day of the weak.”

“You get used to them.”

The air is brisk, and smells salty, like the sea. Ellie likes it.

“I just left Grayson’s office,” says Abby.

Ellie glances at her.

“He chewed me out,” says Abby.

“Why?”

“For leaving grounds after hours without authorization,” she says. “And for letting you do the same.”

“What?” says Ellie. “You _told_ him?”

“No, someone else did that. But I was supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” Abby takes her arms off the rail. “Ellie, you’re kind of important to this thing.”

Ellie exhales, looking over the bay. She can’t really argue with that, but this leash thing is bullshit. “Am I gonna get—“

“Yes,” says Abby, as if that were obvious. “He sent me to send you to him.”

“Ugh.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby.”

“I’m gonna find out who ratted on me.”

Abby chuckles. “Won’t have to work too hard, it was Clint.”

“It was _Clint?_ ”

“He didn’t rat, exactly. He just asked a couple guards if they’d seen you. The rest followed from there.”

“Ugh. I am gonna kick that dummy’s ass.”

“Better step, Ellie,” says Abby. “Grayson’s a good commander, but he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Alright, alright.” Ellie pushes off the rail. She takes a few steps toward the building, then half turns. “On a scale of one to ten, how good are we?” she asks.

Abby turns, a little surprised. She thinks. “Six.”

“I was thinking five.”

“Well, fuck you.”

Ellie laughs. “Good enough.” She turns to go.

“Ellie.”

Ellie turns back. But Abby’s not looking at her. She waits a few moments, almost wondering if she imagined it. Then she sees Abby’s cheek twitch.

“There is one thing,” Abby says. She takes a deep breath, then pushes herself up off the rail, turning around. “That knife.”

Ellie’s stomach turns. “What knife?”

“The one you handed me last night.” Abby’s less patient. They both know what she’s talking about.

“What about it?” Ellie asks. She’s feeling flighty all of the sudden.

Abby’s jaw is tight. She’s angry with Ellie. With the game she’s playing. So she lays it out, in no uncertain terms. “That’s the one, right?”

Ellie feels cornered again. She resists the urge to cross her arms in front of her. She looks down, and nods almost imperceptibly.

“I’d like you to toss it,” says Abby. She gestures with her head toward the water. “Then we’ll be good.”

The words chill Ellie. She looks down at the deep blue water, far below. She finds that she’s shaking her head. “I can’t do that.”

“You can’t—“ Abby’s jaw muscles flex. She turns her head in exasperation. “You get why I’d ask you that, right?”

Ellie crosses her arms. She shifts her weight between her feet. She mumbles.

“What?” asks Abby loudly.

“It belonged to my mother,” says Ellie.

That stops Abby. She leans back. She frowns, shaking her head, like it doesn’t make sense.

Ellie stares over the railing again, at all the space between her and the water.

“I…” Abby seems to be wrapping her head around it. “I didn’t know that.”

Ellie’s chest feels tight. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the knife.

“Ellie, I didn’t know that.”

Ellie hits the switch and the blade extends.

Abby tenses. “Ellie, what…?”

Ellie stares at it. She can see her eyes in its reflection. It’s got a few nicks, but the broad of the blade is smooth as new-wrought silver. She’s cleaned and sharpened it a thousand times. You’d never know how soaked in blood it’s been.

“Ellie,” Abby says quieter, “what are you doing?”

Abruptly, Ellie walks over to the railing. There’s a narrow gap between the two horizontal strips of steel at the top. She rams the blade between them, then jerks down with her whole body.

There’s a loud snapping sound, and Abby flinches. A metallic clatter sounds as the broken blade of the knife tumbles to the floor of the balcony. Ellie looks at the knife handle. About a half inch of blade remains attached to it, protruding from the handle.

She puts the handle back in her pocket, then bends down and picks up the blade. She looks at it, in her palm.

“I wonder if mom ever used it,” she says.

She rears back her arm, and hurls it into the air. The silver gleam catches the sun a handful of times, until it’s too far away, and she can no longer see it.

The two girls stand there for a few moments, looking down at the water where it had fallen.

“Still a six?” Ellie asks.

She doesn’t look, or wait for a response. She walks back into the building.

* * *

Ellie admits it, she’s a bit nervous. She’s been ‘chastised’ by Maria on many occasions, but Maria has a soft spot for Ellie, and everyone in Jackson knew it. Grayson’s admonishment is foreign to her. She knocks on his door.

“Enter,” she hears.

She opens the door. Grayson is sitting at his desk, looking out the window. He swivels his chair, meeting her eyes. He beckons her. She closes the door behind her.

“Don’t sit,” he says. He stands up, and walks casually around the desk, until he’s in front of her. His hair is mostly black, but there’s a lot of gray in his big eyebrows. He cocks one at her. “When I first saw you, I had a hunch you could be sneaky.”

Not sure what to say, Ellie nods.

He appraises her. He looks down at her hip holster. “Still nervous, even here?” he asks, gesturing to it.

Ellie looks down at her nine mil. She’d lost the magnum at the UC. She didn’t really need it here… but she’d been wearing it for months and no one had taken it from her.

“I mean, not really…” she says.

“May I?” he asks.

A little uncomfortable, Ellie unholsters it and hands it to him. He inspects it. He purses his lips, impressed. “Small piece, but you keep it clean. You rebuild it regularly, I can tell.” He removes the magazine. “Full mag, that’s good.” He returns it and checks the chamber. There’s a round in it. He cocks his eye at her at that.

He hands it back to her. “You like to be ready, don’t you?” he asks her.

“That’s why I’m still alive, sir.”

He snorts. “I suppose so. It’s been just the two of you out there, for quite some time. That’s a lot of vigilance.”

That feels fair. Right. Ellie nods.

“That’s good, Ellie. But you understand you have absolutely no use for that anymore, right?”

Ellie frowns. “I don’t understand… are you going to take it from me?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand. Ellie, you are _immune_. The only subject, we have _ever encountered_. Before or after Saint Mary’s.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and widens his eyes. “And that means you are precious.”

Feeling uncomfortable, Ellie looks away.

“Listen,” Grayson says. He clasps his hands behind his back, considering. “Catalina is reasonably secure. We have patrols on every major vantage point around the coast. We have cleared all known infected. And what’s more, you clearly know how to handle yourself. All that being said…” He leans in, and his voice deepens. “As far as our mission is concerned, your life is more valuable than mine, or anyone else here. When we set out tomorrow, you will be under the guard of over a hundred men and women, every single one of whom will have the order to protect your life to the very cost of their own. And you, are not, to take risks. Is that clear?”

Ellie swallows. She pretty much hates what he said about people protecting her with their lives, but she nods.

He stands up. “Good.” Finally he turns around and resumes his seat behind the desk. His mood seems light again, all the sudden. He picks up a pen and starts twirling it. “There’s probably something to be said for conflating censure and reward,” he muses, “but I’ve got something for you.” He gestures for her to sit.

She does, and he reaches into his desk and pulls something out. It’s a cigar box. He places it on the desk. “When Marlene was killed, command passed to me. I was on site, and third in command, behind her and Andersen. Along with all of that, it fell to me to go through Marlene’s affects. She had no next of kin to pass them to… I gave some of it back to the cause. I kept some for myself, simply because I felt someone who knew her should have them. This,” he taps the lid of the box, “I’m sure was meant for you.”

Ellie looks at it with strong curiosity. Marlene… she hadn’t spoken to her since Boston. She missed her. She thought about her still, from time to time. She had been really fond of her, the short time she spent with her before boarding school. She was strong. Ellie had always admired her.

“That’s Marlene’s?” she asks.

“Well, no, actually. It was in Marlene’s custody. I’m sure she intended to give it to you at some point…” He trails off. “I’m not sure when. But anyway, it’s yours now.” He pushes it across the desk to her.

Ellie’s fingers reach for it gingerly. It’s a ruddy brown, with pretty, eastern looking patterns traced around the top and sides. It’s cardboard, and a bit crumpled, but it’s held up.

“You should know,” Grayson continues, “I only read enough to realize what it was. I never thought I’d be able to give it to you in person.”

Ellie opens it, a lot excited, and a little scared. There are papers, a notebook, and a locket. It’s one of those kinds that you can put a picture inside. Ellie picks it up. It’s silver, wrought with little swirls around its oval shape.

“Based on who it originally belonged to,” Grayson says, more softly, “I’m positive Marlene replaced the picture herself, knowing you would one day hold it. I’m not sure whose picture it originally held. They must have fallen from Marlene’s favor though…”

“Who’s in it now?” Ellie asks, popping it open.

“Anna,” he says simply.

Ellie goes still. The locket lays open in her palm. She brings her other hand over it, fingers reaching, but not touching.

It’s the first time in her life that she has seen her mother’s face.

The colors have faded, but she can see the auburn hair, and the freckles. She’s got this knowing smile, like the photographer is lucky to have gotten a picture of her. Even Ellie can see it, the resemblance between them.

She is so unbelievably beautiful.

There are tears in Ellie’s eyes and she clutches the locket to her chest. It is instantly her most precious possession. She wonders insanely if this is some kind of reward for throwing her knife blade into the sea.

She looks at Grayson. “Thank you,” she says, “thank you.”

Grayson is clearly taken aback and embarrassed. “Uh,” he chuckles. “You’re welcome, Ellie.”

She looks at it again. She knows she must protect this thing with everything she has. She closes the clasp and pulls the chain around her neck, under her hair, latching it. The locket hangs down by her heart. She looks at the box, then at Grayson, urgently.

He nods. “It’s all Anna’s.” He gestures for her to continue.

Ellie digs into the box eagerly. The papers are letters, written to and from different people. She picks up the little book. She hesitates, then opens it to the first page.

_Howard told me I needed to start one of these things, and I told him to kiss my ass. But I’ve had a shit day, and Howard’s one of those psych guys, so here we go._

Ellie makes a loud sound, covering her mouth with her hand. She is holding her mother’s journal.

Grayson kind of looks like he wants to get out at that point. He’s smiling though. “Well, go on, then. It’s all yours.”

Ellie stands, and Grayson stands too, presumably to see her out, but instead she finds Ellie coming around the desk and hugging him. “Ah,” he says, surprised.

“Thank you,” she says again.

“Jesus,” he chuckles. “Need nothing of it. Was always meant for you.”

She lets go and looks at him, sniffing. His discomfort is pretty funny. She puts the journal in the box and picks it up, holding it carefully against her chest. She looks expectantly at Grayson.

“Dismissed,” he says.

She can’t get back to her room fast enough.

* * *

Suddenly time was anything but a problem. Ellie spent the rest of the day reading her mother’s journal in her room, taking breaks only to go get food and bring it back, and occasionally to stand by the window for a while, thinking about life.

The journal starts a couple years before Ellie was born. The infection had already taken over the world years ago, but it hadn’t managed to kill Anna. She was a tough cookie.

She lived in Boston, then, using her skills as a nurse to put food on the table for herself and a couple friends. Marlene was already a Firefly, climbing the ranks. She tried to get Anna to join several times, but Anna refused. She would tell Marlene she took the Nightingale Pledge, which is true. But the truth is Anna was worried about what would happen to her friends in Boston without her, and they were too terrified to get anywhere near the fighting.

Not that Boston was safe. It’s hard for Ellie to estimate, but it sounds like there were many times more people alive in Boston at that time, but peace was tenuous. There were riots in times of hunger, which FEDRA quelled ruthlessly and bloodily. There were periods where food was so bad, people would actually starve to death. Even petty crimes could result in exile during those times, which was as good as death. Anna and her friends did okay, though, because if there was one profession that never ran out of work, it was nursing.

She got mugged more than once for food or ration cards, though. She learned to defend herself.

And the knife wasn’t just a keepsake.

Anna is amazing. She writes without hesitation about every bad thing happening around her, even thing she sees happen to strangers on the street. And how it hurts, to see the world come to that, when she was one of the ones who knew what it was like before. But all that does nothing in the face of her determination. To go to work every day, helping others. To put food on the table for her friends, who weren’t built to survive what the world had become. To smile, and bring the smile out of others. One night they could hear gunfire and explosions from another quarter of the city. Anna got them up off the couch and they made dinner together. They sat around the fireplace and told stories, until the fighting finally stopped. She even made them laugh.

She’s exactly what Ellie always needed and never had.

If the riots and hunger weren’t bad enough, the outbreaks were worse. FEDRA wasn’t as keen on smuggling and perimeter patrol back then. Now and then an infected person, too scared to admit it or take their own life, would get loose in the housing blocks, and madness would ensue. Anna describes one night, they could hear infected running up and down the hall, and one was pounding on the door. It was terrifying enough, and her friend Lila wouldn’t stop screaming, no matter how much her boyfriend Casey tried to comfort her. They survived, though.

At that point Ellie was feeling a little overwhelmed with all the information. She snuck up to the roof and spent a while up there, walking the perimeter. The many colored flags whipped in the ocean wind. She was starting to feel a little sorry they would leave so soon.

When she got back, she took a break from the journal and started looking through the papers. They were mostly letters, from people whose names she didn’t recognize. She did see one from Marlene. Some were letters that her mother had apparently never sent. She picked up another one from a name she didn’t know, and she was going to put it back down with the others, but when she read the first line, she froze.

_Babe, I know you’re angry. You should be. But I told you when I met you that I wasn’t cut out to be no dad._

She’d been standing in front of the desk, sorting the papers into piles. She takes the letter in both hands and sits down on the bed.

_Some of what I’m about to say you’d probably slap me for. I know you well enough. But since this is a letter, I guess I get to say it with impunity._

_I always cared, Anna. In the beginning you would always call it an act, like I was playing you. And I’ve played before, but with you I always felt like the lucky one. I think you could tell, if you were being honest._

_If I was your friend, or your brother, I’d have warned you off. Thief, smuggler, killer… but who isn’t, these days. I never intended to stay in Boston long, and that’s just one more strike against me. But you kept giving me reason, time after time._

_I wish I could have gotten you out of there. Shit, if you’d have asked me I might have joined the Fireflies. I was starting to feel like that was going to happen, after Lila and Casey…_

_And then it happened. I’m so angry with myself. You may curse me for saying it, but getting you pregnant is one of my biggest regrets. That, and the look on your face when you told me, and you could tell how scared I was._

_It’s not responsible, anymore. I know, you said it a thousand times. ‘Humanity’s not over yet. Or why do I go to work every day?’ You’re right, and a lot stronger than me. But how can I take care of a kid? What kind of example am I?_

_The fact that I’m writing this letter is the proof in the pudding. I’m worth less than you think, whatever you say. A lot less._

_And maybe I wouldn’t leave if there was any doubt in my mind that you’d find someone to take care of you and the kid. Someone a lot better than me, most likely._

_Shit, I’m not gonna go on about my feelings, that doesn’t feel right, but just know this isn’t easy. Not like the other times. Not with you. I meant what I said, how I feel about you._

_The kid… I guess it’s not my place… You can tell them whatever you want about me. But I guess, if I got to choose… I’d just want you to tell them that they might be the luckiest kid in the city, with the mother they got. And that, no matter what happens, when their time comes, hopefully a long, long time from now, they’ll be able to look back on their life and at least know that they did a hell of a lot better than their dad._

_But maybe that’s cold comfort._

_I love you, Anna. I’ll be thinking about you for a long time to come. A long time._

_Lyle Dunn_

There are tears on Ellie’s cheeks. Her lips pull back from her teeth as she sobs. Her heart is pounding.

_The luckiest kid in the city._

Her father abandoned Anna, and her. He really never came back. Ellie always knew that, so why does it hurt so much to read it? Why does she care about that asshole?

And why does so much of what he wrote feel familiar?

She cries for a while, laying on her side on top of her bed, next to the letter. Eventually, she cleans herself up, gets up and folds the letter, not sure when she’s gonna read it again. She drops it on the desk and reaches for the last few pages in the box. When she moves them, she sees something she hadn’t before. Some color, in the bottom of the box. She picks it up.

It’s a piece of a photograph, cut into an oval. A man’s face.

He’s got brown hair, and green eyes. He’s wearing a confident smirk, but it looks like it’s for show. He’s maybe ten years older than Ellie. He’s handsome.

This must be what was in the pendant when Marlene received it. She puts the picture back in the box.

All at once she decides she’s done for the day. She leaves everything out, and plops facedown on her bed. Annoyingly, there’s a knock at her door a few seconds later.

“Ugh,” she says into the comforter. When she answers it, it’s Clint.

“Dinner?” he asks.

“Please,” Ellie replies.

* * *

_I have to do this in the headlights of one of the Humvees. Grayson has us running straight through the night, rotating drivers, so we don’t have to camp out in the open, ‘exposed.’ So I guess he can be a bit of an asshole. Smart, though._

_We just finished eating and I only have a few minutes before we start rolling again. The I-5 is pretty clear, and Grayson’s pretty sure we can make the Med Center by noon tomorrow._

_I’m pretty fucking scared._

_I still haven’t told Clint. I showed him Anna’s picture, though. He said it’s no wonder, she looks tough. I liked that. I told him about Lyle’s letter, too. I could tell he didn’t know how to react. Then he told me he was sorry, and I didn’t know how to react. I thought about it, after. I guess I’m sorry, too. If I ever found him, though, I’d deck him._

_I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t think I had ever considered it before. It’s unlikely, but… Lyle could still be alive, somewhere. He’d be about Joel’s age, probably. I don’t know what to think about that. I mean, it would be a million to one that I ever find him. Not that I’ll get the chance, anyway._

_Things are different with Abby now. The part of me that recoiled whenever I saw her has… weakened. The part of me that wants to shoot her is pretty much gone. Which leaves… not a lot. She’s kind of like a stranger, now. I can tell it’s weird for her, too, but now it’s possible for us to have a normal conversation._

_Lev is great. You pretty much can’t not like him. I still feel like shit about holding a knife to his throat (what else is new), but every time he sees me, he lights up. He’ll run over like we’re old friends, and start telling me about his day. It’s nice, talking to him. His honesty is really refreshing. He left the Scars behind, a long time ago. There’s some kind of serious story there, but we haven’t gotten a chance for that yet. But he seems to have taken the best parts of his ‘religion’ with him. He has a habit of pointing out people’s flaws, with grace and unapologetic directness. He takes criticism really well, too, though._

_I get why Abby is so protective._

_We left this (yesterday?) morning. Landed a bunch of boats in a discreet location along the coast. Short march, and we’re at this heavily barricaded warehouse. Barricaded by Fireflies. Inside there are_ tons _of supplies and vehicles and gas. We load up and start pounding asphalt. I haven’t seen any hostiles all day._

_It was surreal. Sitting there and looking out the window at all the landscape Clint and I had covered on foot, flying by at fifty miles an hour. It was really cool, actually. I spent a lot of time just gazing._

_Clint is with me in the backseat of the Humvee. Grayson is passenger, and Beth drove most of the day, then Axel. We are_ closely _flanked by two other vehicles. There’s a beast of a military truck up front, apparently to push through any blockades. It really feels like nothing can stop us. They are well prepared._

_So I guess this is likely to be one of my last entries._

_[Doodles, the start of Joel’s face.]_

_I really want to draw Joel right now but I’m almost out of time._

_I’m so scared._

_Maybe I’ll be with you soon._


	19. Whiplash

The streets of Sacramento are dense. Clint has been eyeing the houses and buildings they pass carefully, but they still have yet to see a soul. He and Ellie are in the backseat of the bigass truck, now. Supposedly the windows are all bulletproof. It’s no joke. They’d switched vehicles after sunrise breakfast. They’re both running on catnaps and adrenaline. They’re almost there.

The caravan had been stopped on the I-5 at the edge of the city. It’s a wall of vehicles, not even the truck could push through. So they’d taken to the streets.

According to Grayson, Sacramento is one of the cities that was hit hardest at outbreak. FEDRA had never been able to reclaim it, so there’s no wall. They’d seen infected, here and there. The caravan makes a hell of a lot of noise. Runners would come out from between some buildings, and they’d get iced pretty quick by sharpshooters in the vehicles around them. There are two Humvees in front of them, and two behind. And a bunch of trucks behind them, more than one full of soldiers. The Humvees behind Clint and Ellie both have those massive, armored machine guns mounted on the back, both manned. God help anyone who attacks them now.

Grayson is showing his version of max caution. His body language is easy, but his eyes vigilantly scan the horizon. He’s ready. He keeps the comms tight. At one point one of the soldiers had made a joke on a channel, a short little quip, and Grayson hadn’t hesitated.

“Ease off the comms,” he spoke into the radio.

It was quiet for a while after that.

Grayson turns back to them at one point. “Eyes up, kids.”

Clint and Ellie look, and over the tops of nearby houses, over an elevated freeway, he can see a group of tall buildings. The Med Center.

He looks at Ellie, excited. She looks more nervous than ever, though.

“Easy, Ellie. We’re almost there. No force on Earth short of a FEDRA army could stop us now.”

She nods, and looks out the window. “Just a weird position to be in.”

“Relax, kids,” says Grayson. “Any shitbags around here do try something, and they’ll be sorry. And it’ll be DEFCON 1 long before you two discharge your weapons.”

“That’s what’s weird,” says Ellie.

They pull around a corner strewn with abandoned vehicles. The tunnel of an underpass appears before them. Once they cross under the freeway, they’ll be almost there.

And when they’re about a hundred feet from it, a city bus rolls down the off ramp, running into a cement wall and blocking them.

“Showtime, Ax!” shouts Grayson.

The Humvees in front of them pull to the sides of the street, and Axel lays into the throttle.

Gunfire starts going off all around them. Bullets bounce off the hood of the truck, even off the windshield. A rifle bullet hits in front of Axel, but all it succeeds in doing is making a white blotch in the glass.

“Sons of bitches!” shouts Axel.

At some point, Clint doesn’t know when, he and Ellie had taken each other’s hand. He looks at her. She’s as scared as him.

The truck’s engine is roaring, and when they impact the bus, it flips on its side and starts dragging across the road. The shock squeezes Clint’s chest under the seatbelt. The truck doesn’t stop, and eventually the buss gets pushed longwise against the wall of the underpass, and they’re through.

The machine guns behind them are making the loudest gunblasts Clint has ever heard. People are shouting on the freeway above them. Axel doesn’t stop, and they pull into the daylight on the other side of the tunnel. Grayson is shouting terse directions as they hit intersections. Now, the two Humvees pull around them and resume their place in the front of the train. As they’re turning, Clint can see behind them, and the caravan is indeed rolling without stopping. A Molotov has caused a fire on one of the canvas covers of the troop transports, but it’s small and not spreading. Fire is issuing from every vehicle he can see.

“There she is!” shouts Grayson.

They’re in a wider open area. The complex looms huge in front of them, at least ten buildings, some more than ten stories. The truck pulls right up a landscaped embankment into a parking lot.

Grayson continues instructing Axel where to turn.

Two pickup trucks with guys in the back come into view on an intercept vector. The machine guns start going off and basically rip the vehicles apart. On bursts into flame, and the other loses control, crashing into a streetlight.

They pull into a narrow street between a low building and a parking garage. There’s a building complex at the end of it. There are glass sliding doors that say ‘South Entrance’ on top.

“Install us!” commands Grayson.

Axels steps on the gas and they blast right into the building. After the deafening crashing sounds are over, they have ground to a stop in a lobby area, lit by the truck’s headlights. They can hear infected in the building.

“Alpha, delta, Lima, Quebec, on command!” Grayson shouts into the radio. “Everyone else, secure the entrance and form a perimeter!”

There’s screeching on the street behind them, and some more gunfire in the distance. The sounds of boots surround the truck and soldiers pour into view around them. Abby is there. Three runners come out of a hallway in front of them. They’re down in less than two seconds. Smoke wafts from the tip of Abby’s barrel.

“Out!” Grayson says.

Clint lets go of Ellie’s hand and they jump out of the vehicle.

“Weapons hot!” Grayson issues. “Drop ‘em long! We’re going up!” He looks at Clint and Ellie. “You two on my ass.”

Grayson’s bearing a rifle too, but he doesn’t aim it. He walks toward a nearby hallway, and they follow him. He seems to already know the layout of the building.

The soldiers are showing their training. The surround them automatically, and only those in the front or back shoot.

Almost a dozen runners appear in that first minute, as well as a couple clickers. None get closer than twenty feet. At one point a guy’s mag empties, and when he falls back to reload, the guy behind him instantly takes his place, barrel up.

They’re walking down hallways lined with dark offices. Outside light is poor, but they all have flashlights. At another point a guy discharges suddenly into a dark office. He gets some looks. “Stalker,” he says.

They come up on a metal door with a Firefly symbol painted next to it. Clint frowns. When did that get there?

The soldiers open it and proceed through. Grayson never stops. They climb ten flights this way, but they don’t encounter any infected. The landing doors are all closed. On floor six or seven, a runner starts pounding on the other side of the door, but they ignore it.

When they exit the stairs, the floor is quiet. There’s a soldier standing at the end of the hallway with a rifle, waiting for them. Clint frowns again, then it hits him. The Fireflies who discovered the Med Center never left. The soldier salutes as they approach.

“Madsen,” Grayson acknowledges. They walk through the door and are in a large room with several desks, three of which are occupied. All the soldiers stand and salute.

“Stand down,” says Grayson. “Time for shooting, not saluting.”

“At your command, sir.”

Everyone is in the room, now. “This floor is secure?” Grayson asks.

“And the two above it, sir.”

“Alpha, delta, join these fine men and women at whatever vantages they’ve established around the floor. I want eyes in every direction, no surprises. Kill every foreign on sight unless they are waving a white fucking flag.”

“Yes, sir!” the Fireflies reply in unison and there is a flurry of movement.

“Marshall, where are you?” Grayson looks around and meets the eyes of a younger woman with black, curly hair. She approaches. “I need intel. These guys gonna push for a long fight?”

Clint’s head is spinning. That was a whirlwind, he looks at Ellie. “Ellie, I think we’re safe.”

She looks as stunned as him. She looks down at her nine millimeter in her hand, then holsters it.

“And you two stay close to me until the shooting is over, got it?” says Grayson.

Ellie nods. She looks around, then walks over to a couple chairs against the wall and sits in one of them. Clint sits next to her.

“I should like…” he starts. “Go help probably, right?”

She shakes her head. “If I don’t get to, you don’t get to.”

He scoffs.

The gunfire is sparser now. Ten or twenty seconds will pass between a flurry of shots.

“These guys were not ready to deal with us,” Clint says.

“Not under Grayson,” Ellie mutters.

“These guys do not fuck around.”

“The Fireflies have been fighting for existence for years,” says Ellie. “It’s probably just the toughest motherfuckers left.”

“I guess so.” Clint eyes her. “You alright?”

Ellie’s hands are clasped and she’s leaning on her knees, looking down. She’s tense, he can tell. “I’ll be fine when the shooting stops.”

Yeah, it’s pretty weird to be in the middle of a full-tilt battle and told to do nothing. He wants to hug her, but it’s not the time. “Yeah,” he ends up saying.

In the end, the fighting goes on for a couple hours. Clint overhears Marshall’s debriefing, and the radio chatter. The building is secure not long after their arrival. The outsiders have no play, they’re out manned, outgunned, and outtrained. The ambush was a mistake to begin with. What’s more, there is more than one faction.

The Great Staters enjoy operating out of the capitol, dominating downtown and midtown. The Free Faction is based to the East, past the river, but both factions scavenge the areas between. And they hate each other’s guts, making skirmishes common. The Med Center is essentially no man’s land, which is good for them.

It was the Great Staters that ambushed them. Once the Fireflies took the building and scared off anyone who might approach, the fight continued, but between the GS and the FF, which showed up on scene afterward, trying to capitalize on what is obviously an opportunity for a huge score. Doesn’t go well for either faction, essentially turning into trench warfare. It’s a stalemate, and eventually, the area is quiet again.

The Fireflies based out of here decided on secrecy, their base remaining undiscovered. They tactically elected not to attempt trade with either faction. Limited ammo has stymied their ability to clear much of the complex, but they’ve managed to hang in here, with no casualties since they first took the building.

This is a long term care wing. Marshall claims there will be beds for every soldier, but they’re low on food.

“We can help with that,” says Grayson.

“Filet mignon and champagne?” Marshall asks.

“Nope,” says Grayson with his muted amusement. “But you won’t go hungry.”

The afternoon sun is warm, pouring in through the windows. There are still a few hours of light left. Grayson turns to Marshall, clearly in command of the group of soldiers stationed here.

“How many did you lose, in the end?” Grayson asks her.

“Since embarking?” she replies. “Twelve of my thirty. Every one saw their honors. It was a gnarly trek, ain’t gonna deny that.”

“S’why I picked you all.” Grayson puts a hand on her shoulder. “You had a tough job and you showed up. You will all be commensurately rewarded, and honored, indeed.”

There’s feeling under the surface for Marshall, Clint can tell. But she’s a soldier, and she keeps up her face. “Thank you, sir.”

“In the end, you and all you gave orders to will have been instrumental in this thing, make no mistake.”

It moves Marshall. “Thank you, sir.”

Ellie’s watching them. Clint can see sadness in her eyes.

Grayson half turns in their direction. Marshall looks over at Clint, then Ellie, where her gaze lingers.

“Just one piece left, Marshall,” says Grayson. He walks to the window and clasps his hands behind his back.

“We last heard from Watanabe’s group yesterday. They were not far from the city.”

“Excellent,” Grayson replies. Then he speaks in lower, more casual tones. “Imagine that. Enough to give you whiplash.”

“No kidding, sir.”

In the end, the Fireflies take a handful of injuries, but not a single casualty.

* * *

Ellie is chewing on one of her fingernails. She catches herself and stops. She’s trying not to make that a habit. She shifts her position on the bed.

Clint plays a 7. It puts the total to 17. It’s all good though, because she plays a seven on top of it, bringing it to 24.

“Pair,” she says, “two points.” She moves her peg up two.

“Ooh, hoo hoo,” says Clint, smiling inexplicably. He proceeds to play a third 7. “Triple and sum 31. Eight points. Not bad at all…” He moves his peg.

“No way! Eight points? Don’t peg that shit!”

“Why, it just happened.”

“That’s not in the rules!”

“Oh, you’re teaching me, now?”

“How is that eight points?”

“You count each card individually. Three cards, and three combinations of cards that make a pair. Three pair, six points. Plus, I hit 31, plus, I played the last card.”

“Asshole!”

“Yep.”

Cribbage sucks, she decides. “We’re playing chess next time.”

“Find a board, then.”

Ellie’s legitimately annoyed, but this is about all she could ask for right now.

It was a weird damn day. After the fighting stopped, she and Clint made the slow and surreal transition from fear of death back to total boredom. The sun set a while ago, and they’re sitting on the beds they’d been assigned between their privacy curtains. A little half-room, just for the two of them. There’s a little table just big enough for them to play the game on.

Soldiers all around them are settling in as well. Some pull the night shift, but the rest are basically celebrating. She can see a guy hand a girl a bottle of whiskey right now. Chatter is fairly muted, but there’s a low key party vibe. It feels nice. Even better, she’s not the center of attention. She and Clint have their own little space carved out of it.

It’s helping to take her mind off things.

“I’m glad neither of us thought to bring a deck out of Jackson,” says Ellie.

“Oh, come on,” says Clint. “Here, I’ll start with a nine.”

Ellie plays. “Six, bitch. Last card.” She moves her peg.

“You’re welcome.”

There’s movement and they turn to see Abby and Lev come around their curtain. When Lev sees her, his eyes light up.

“Ellie!” Without hesitation, he runs over and jumps on the bed next to her, sitting cross legged, like her. He could be her little brother. She can’t help but smile.

Abby’s smiling too, but it’s for Lev, not her. Abby walks over and leans against Clint’s bed, crossing her arms. She studies the table. “Cribbage, huh?”

“Apparently,” says Ellie.

“First round and he’s already leading by ten?” Abby asks.

“You wanna shuffle up?” Ellie asks, further annoyed.

“Do it,” she says. Clint scoops up the cards and starts shuffling. Ellie resets the pegs on the board.

“How do you play this game?” Lev asks, brow furrowed.

“Well, to begin with—“ Clint starts.

“It makes no sense,” says Ellie.

Clint rolls his eyes. “You know I know you’re not actually that sore about it.”

“He cheats,” Ellie whispers to Lev. He grins.

“You get to know Ellie,” says Clint, “and you quickly learn she can be difficult on purpose.”

Ellie screws up her face. She looks at Lev and shakes her head, rolling her eyes. Lev laughs out loud.

Lev is new to the game, but he learns pretty quickly. Abby’s actually not bad. She goes after Clint, and she keeps getting plays off of him. It’s starting to bug him, which pleases Ellie greatly.

“So what’s going on out there?” Ellie asks Abby.

She’s surprised at first. “Why are you asking me?”

“I get the impression you’re in Grayson’s circle.”

“I’m a grunt,” Abby replies, studying the table. “But he trusts me, yeah. It’s pretty much what you’d expect. Those guys lost hard. We suspect they’re gonna keep close eyes on us, but probably no further serious attacks.” She makes a play. It’s Lev’s turn. He gets a serious look and studies his hand. It’s cute. “Like it or not, we’re a player in this region now. I did hear him say that when the opportunity arises, we’ll even try to establish trade. They’ll doubtful offer weapons, and they sure as hell aren’t getting any of ours, but we might be able to get some food off of them.”

“Smart,” says Ellie. Lev plays and Ellie follows it without thinking about it too much.

Abby keeps glancing at her. Ellie doesn’t like it. She’s pretty sure she’s seeing what Clint is seeing. She should be happy, relaxed, like everyone else on the floor, but she’s trying her best to hide that she’s stressed out.

“Is something on your mind, Ellie?” asks Lev.

It takes them all by surprise, and play stops. Lev’s brown eyes are so… piercing, and gentle at the same time. It reminds her of Eddie, strangely.

She thinks of attributing it to the game, but that would be a weak lie. She doesn’t have a good response.

“I just—“

A couple gunshots sound off, in the distance, then some more.

They all freeze up. Abby jumps off the bed, Ellie right behind her. Ellie follows her down the hallway, where other Fireflies are climbing out of their beds, too. Abby looks over her shoulder. “Ellie, you need to stay here.”

Ellie clenches her teeth but stops, allowing Lev to pass her. “Keep me in the loop, at least?”

Abby looks over her shoulder again. “When I’m not under strict orders, yeah.”

She stops before turning the corner, talking to someone. “Oh, shit,” Ellie can hear her say. They disappear around the corner.

“Clint,” Ellie says, not even having to look to know he’s right behind her. “Stay close to the packs.”

He frowns. “Okay, but there’s no way anyone pushes in here.”

“Yeah, still.”

They resume their places on the beds, packs next to them. They don’t resume play.

The gunshots are frequent for a few minutes, but it doesn’t last. They’re on the same floor as the conference room, which is now command central. After the initial activity, the floor is pretty quiet, and Ellie can hear a lot of chatter coming from command, but it’s too far away to make anything out.

She looks at Clint, and he returns it, but there’s nothing to be said. Nothing, except…

She decides all at once to tell him, and when she does, she doesn’t like how much emotion is in her voice. “Clint—“

She hears the stairway door open, and a lot of footsteps. Something is happening. Without another word she gets off the bed and walks around the corner. Some Fireflies are doing the same.

A stream of well armored Japanese men are issuing from the stairwell. Their guns are down, but they move with the stiff gait of well-trained soldiers on an operation. Finally, a man in a camel sports coat and slacks walks through the door, followed by a woman in a white dress.

The man looks around curiously at the Fireflies present. He meets Ellie’s eyes for a moment. He smiles. It’s warm. He turns, and sees Grayson at the end of the hall.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in!” says Grayson loudly, walking down the hall toward the man. When he reaches him, they hug without hesitation. The man doesn’t say anything, but he’s laughing. It’s a great moment.

“Let’s get you situated and apprised,” Grayson says, putting his arm on the man’s back and guiding him. Before he turns back toward the conference room, he notices Ellie. He beckons her with a single finger.

“Stay here,” she says for some reason to Clint, who she again knows is behind her.

The Japanese soldiers line the hallway, not really having anywhere else to go. As Ellie walks between them, it feels kind of like a gauntlet. When she catches the eyes of one of them, though, he nods politely.

The lighting on the floor is dim, since it’s late, but the conference room is bright as day. The man is sitting in a chair in the middle of the floor across from Grayson. There are a lot of people in the room. Ellie swallows.

“I hope you brought that sake you promised,” says Grayson.

The man’s face is curious and receptive. The woman in the white dress, sitting next to him, translates in Japanese. The man smiles and nods his head, speaking in Japanese.

“Business first,” the woman says.

“Of course, of course.” Grayson looks at Ellie. “And as it happens, business has just arrived.”

The woman starts speaking again, and the man looks at Ellie with interest. He stands and crosses the room to her, bowing slightly and extending his hand. “Watanabe Shoji,” he says.

Ellie feels light headed. She sways slightly. She takes his hand. “Ellie,” she says. The man smiles, then resumes his seat. Grayson is watching her curiously. He gestures for her to sit. She does, and Clint, who had apparently ignored her instruction, sits next to her.

Dr. Watanabe speaks again.

“The California landscape is beautiful, especially this time of year,” the woman translates.

“Indeed,” says Grayson. “Especially when one may observe it safely. I’m pleased to hear you had a successful trek from the coast.”

“Me as well,” translates the woman. “Not a single life lost. We could not ask for more.”

Ellie swallows.

They speak for a while. Grayson tells Watanabe that they have secured the building and do not expect substantial threats from their new neighbors. It will take a couple weeks, maybe, to secure all the assets they will need from the medical complex, since they are in different buildings. In addition to establishing safe lines of transit to and from them. That being said, they never imagined being in such an excellent position again.

At that, Watanabe laughs. He looks at Ellie, expecting her to share it, but laughing is about the last thing she feels like doing.

He says something to her, that she doesn’t understand.

“Thank Heaven for you,” translates the woman.

Still smiling, he narrows his eyes a little. He speaks again.

“You seem nervous,” says the woman. “And that is fair. In a way, you are offering the most here. And we could not do this without you. Are you with us?”

Ellie blinks. He’s asking? What, is he asking for permission? Seriously? To her face?

She’s breathing fast and she knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help it. It’s finally coming into bloom, the feeling. And the petals are red.

“Ellie?” says Grayson. He sounds confused and concerned. “What’s the matter?”

She sucks a couple more breaths through her teeth. “What’s the matter? What’s the matter?” She stands up from her chair. “I’ll tell you what’s the matter. Talking about all this stuff, like I’m not even here. Why doesn’t one of you just say it, already?”

They’re all stunned. No one says anything.

“It’s going to fucking kill me!” she shouts.

Grayson is nonplussed. He looks at Watanabe.

Dr. Watanabe’s eyes are wide, but he is not offended. The woman leans down and starts translating, quietly and urgently. He turns his head, listening. She goes on for longer than Ellie did. As she speaks, his features change. He’s totally sober, all of the sudden. He nods, and the woman stops speaking.

He rises in his chair, raising his shoulders formally. He’s solemn. He looks at Ellie directly and starts to talk. His voice is level, and diplomatic. At one point he gestures to the side of his head, where Ellie’s infection is. At another point he leans forward, raising his brows, impressing upon her. He taps his chest, near his heart.

He finally finishes. He looks at the translator, and she nods. Dr. Watanabe retains eye contact with Ellie while the woman begins.

“Of course. We have been cavalier with you. We are all of the military, or the sciences. You alone are here as a patient. Please know, I am aware of not only the risks you took to arrive in this place, but that you must have endured terrible things to have survived what you have, not excluding the event which caused your infection. Yet you have survived, only to arrive here, to further risk, when all you deserve, as anyone does, is happiness.”

Ellie blinks. She’s still standing.

“The core of the infection takes root in the brain. And in order for us to accomplish what we seek, the thing that must be, a successful and reproducible vaccine, we will need to sample that tissue. Neurosurgery is very delicate. Sometimes tremendous damage to the brain can have little effect, and seeming inconsequential damage can lead to death. Yes, neurosurgery is delicate, but _I,_ ” the woman taps her chest, imitating the doctor, “am a neurosurgeon.

“I take my work very seriously. I do not drink, or smoke, on principle. Both to keep my head clear and my hands steady, for my patients. I have operated one hundred and thirty seven infected brains. Thirty one of them were alive. None of them, of course, were immune.

“I am familiar with Dr. Andersen’s work. It was relayed to me by your party. I do believe he may have met with success, but my methods are somewhat different. The procedure we seek to accomplish will not be without risks. However, based on what I know and what we need and historical precedent, I would put your chances of survival at ninety-three percent.”

Stunned, Ellie rocks back and she feels Clint’s hand on her back.

“Ellie, we never talked about that,” he whispers.

She looks around, a little dizzy. There are too many people in the room. Watanabe looks concerned. He reaches out with a hand, as if to help her. She turns and walks through the doorway, soldiers parting to make way for her.

Pretty much all eyes are on her, but she ignores them, walking back to her bed and sitting down. Clint sits across from her. As soon as she meets his eyes, he looks away. He flexes his arm. She knows he’s angry, but he doesn’t say anything, he just lays down on his pillow, staring at the ceiling. Ellie is about to do the same when Abby walks around the curtain.

They’re surprised at each other for a second. Was Abby in the room? It felt like the whole fucking brigade was.

“Long road here, right?” says Abby a little stiffly.

Ellie stares. She nods her head slightly.

“Infected, obviously. Bandits, and all manner of assholes, I imagine.”

Ellie nods again.

“You can’t possibly have left Jackson with any assurance that you would find us, alive.”

Ellie shakes her head.

“That’s a lot of determination.”

This time, Ellie doesn’t respond.

Abby’s looking down at her, brow slightly pinched. She’s trying to piece Ellie out.

“And every step you took here,” she says, “you thought you were coming to your death.”

Ellie sits there, hands in her lap. She doesn’t disagree.

Abby sniffs, looks to the side, and glances at Ellie one last time before walking out of sight.

Ellie notices Lev, who had been standing behind her. He walks over, squeezes her hand gently, then follows Abby.

Feeling tired, Ellie lays back on her pillow like Clint. No one else bothers them, and eventually all the lights go out, and it’s quiet again.

She’s not sleeping and she’s pretty sure Clint isn’t either.

“I was about to tell you,” she says quietly.

“I bet,” Clint responds.

“Does it always have to be about you?” She’s knows she’s defensive.

“No. But that’s not the problem.” She can hear him move on his pillow. “The problem is this was one more thing that you were carrying all to yourself.”

The moonlight is blue on the metal, card-strewn table.

“That must have sucked,” says Clint.

“It did.”

“You could have told me.”

“You would have been mad.”

“Who cares?” he says. “It’s not about me, remember?”

Ellie sniffs. It’s quiet for a long while.

“What a world,” says Clint.

She doesn’t disagree.

* * *

Abby rubs her nose with her forearm again. She’s not crying, not really. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

She’s crouched in a corner in a dark wing a couple floors above where everyone is sleeping. She just wants a little solace. And a little space to figure out why watching that conversation made her feel like this.

Lev is not far away. She had asked him for space, and apparently that amounts to about twenty feet and a lack of direct interruption. She doesn’t blame him for caring. She’d be hard pressed to give him that much space if it were him.

 _That’s a lot of determination._ Abby pictures Ellie’s face, from just a short while ago.

“Bitch,” Abby mutters.

Now that the worst of it is over, it’s not that hard to be near Ellie anymore. Abby is seeing a side of her she’s never seen before. It’s natural… but it still bothers the shit out of her.

“Abby?” Lev asks.

“What?” she replies, annoyed.

“I just feel like eventually you will reach a point where it is better to talk about it.”

“Not yet,” she says.

She waits another five minutes, out of stubbornness.

She issues a long sigh, and turns around, sitting and leaning against the wall. She plants one foot on the ground and wraps her arms around her knee, grabbing her own wrist. Automatically, Lev walks over and sits down, cross-legged. He doesn’t say anything.

“You’ve taken a liking to her,” says Abby.

“I’ve no reason not to,” he says. He works his lips a little. It’s rare for him to betray hesitation. “She’s pretty easy to like.”

Abby snorts softly.

“You told me you forgave her.”

“To a great extent,” says Abby. “Maybe it’s a longer process than I thought.”

“It is a lot, to forgive.”

_I hadn’t forgiven him when he died._

That part stuck with Abby, when Ellie was talking about Joel. Why did that matter? She had given it a lot of thought.

Mel’s face comes back, from the aquarium.

 _You’re a piece of shit, Abby._ It had hurt so much to see her face contort like that. Like the other shoe dropping. _Been that way a long time._

She just wanted Mel to say she hadn’t meant it, and she would never have that chance.

“What do you think it feels like to realize you’ve killed a pregnant woman?” Abby asks him. It clicks almost right away, and Abby turns to the side, suddenly not wanting to look at Lev.

“You know I wouldn’t say anything just to hurt you,” says Lev.

He’s softening the blow. Abby braces for it.

“You almost found out,” he says quietly.

Abby does start crying then. Her sleeves are too short, she has nothing to wipe it on. She feel so stupid, sobbing in front of Lev like that. He hands her something. It’s a handkerchief. She feels his hand on her lower leg.

“Thank god I had you,” she says, blowing her nose.

“You did,” says Lev. “And you always will, if I have any say.”

Even then, she’s able to smile for him.

“So I take it you trust me?” says Lev.

She frowns. “You know that. I trust you more than anyone.”

“Then know that Ellie is a good person,” he replies. He tilts his head. “She’s just been through a lot of bad things, I think.”

Abby plays with the moist handkerchief anxiously. “It’s not that I don’t think that.”

“Then what is it?”

Abby shakes her head. Her eyes go far away. “When I finally found Ellie, in Seattle, and saw her for the first time, I couldn’t believe it. I knew all the things she’d done. All the people she’d killed, and the chaos she had caused. I had just seen Mel and Owen. I couldn’t believe this scrappy, little bitch could even be _capable_ of all that.”

She clenches the handkerchief in her fists.

“And I saw the other side of her, when we fought. Just how capable she is. She was basically a demon.” Her forearms flex, then her hands finally relax. She feels heavy. “It wasn’t until that night in Santa Barbara that I finally saw she still had a soul, somehow.”

She looks up. She can’t see Lev very well in the darkness, but she can see the glint of his eyes clearly. He nods.

“Just forgive me if it’s pretty hard to accept any reality where Ellie ends up the hero.”

“That makes sense,” says Lev. “Thank you for saying that.”

When Abby speaks again, it’s very quiet. “And I think I wanted to believe that if I forgave her, somehow…”

Lev frowns, thinking for a minute, then his eyes open wide. “That it might also be possible for you to be forgiven, for what you did.”

Abby says something but it doesn’t come out clearly.

“What?” asks Lev.

“She was there,” says Abby, quavering.

“What? When?”

“With Joel,” she spits out.

Lev gasps. The night wind moans in the distance. “You never mentioned that…”

“She was screaming.”

“Oh my god…”

“You can’t really forgive someone for that, can you?”

She remembers what it felt like, golf club seized in her hands, when she delivered the final blow.

“It would not be easy…” says Lev.

She can see Ellie on the beach in Catalina, eyes hooded, distant. She looked so fucked up.

“But it is possible, Abby. Perhaps the most difficult part will be for you to accept it. White Dove said it is that way, sometimes, when our guilt is great.”

“White Dove?”

“That was what the Prophet called herself, after her awakening. The elders would punish anyone would called her anything other than the Prophet, after she died. But the more time passes, the more I see in the Seraphites that I don’t think White Dove would have approved of.”

Abby’s honestly taken aback. She feel steadier now. She did not see that woman coming into this conversation. “I thought all that was behind you.”

“I carry what I need forward, and leave what I don’t behind.”

“Is that from White Dove, too?”

“It is.”

“I thought she was crazy.”

She can tell Lev is offended, but he swallows it down. “The wol—forgive me, the WLF would spread this rumor, but the truth is, few understood her. Her wisdom was obvious, to all who knew her. I saw her a few times, when I was younger. Her presence itself felt like a blessing… but… I know that is difficult to believe, and I don’t want to argue with you about her. But yes, to answer your question, I have left the Seraphites behind, but White Dove’s teachings, I carry.”

“Okay,” says Abby. “Okay, I’m sorry I called her crazy.”

“It’s okay.”

Abby sniffs. She’s actually feeling better. “How do you always know how to set me straight?”

“Intuition,” Lev answers honestly. “The elders used to say mine was strong. And White Dove’s teachings, honestly.”

Abby snorts. “You’re not going to try to convert me, are you?”

“Conversion is not necessary. Right wisdom is proof in and of itself.”

Abby laughs. She doesn’t even know what the fuck that means. “If you say so, Lev.”

“And speaking of wisdom,” Lev replies, standing, “perhaps we should go back to our beds, to sleep while it is dark outside, as I doubt Grayson is going to let us sleep in.”

“That’s for sure,” she says. Lev offers her his hand, and she lets him help her up.


	20. Entries from Limbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter available as of me posting my backlog. From this point, I have more written, but it's not ready. I'm doing some future writing as well, focusing on chapters I'm most looking forward to get to. Of course I need to write the in-between too.
> 
> Anyway, I should have a new chapter in a few days. I hope you're enjoying. Please let me know if so!

_After I shot Jenna, it felt like that was it. There was no going on. I was convinced. Then, Clint’s silhouette appeared in the mouth of that cave, and there life was again, whether I liked it or not._

_Last night, I was sitting in bed, waiting patiently, and in walked the grim reaper, in a camel-colored suit. He smiled at me, then he told me he had no interest in my soul. I laid in bed for hours that night. This world will just not let me go._

_They took Clint again. They’re using him to help clear areas of the Med Center. Lev’s off somewhere too, and the only other person I know here is Abby. And whatever that means, she’s busy. And I can’t find Mara._

_This is a strange kind of torment._

_Ninety three percent. Pretty good, but no guarantee, either. So I get neither the promise of life, or the promise of death. This is my existence. So what’s changed, I guess? Since the day I was born?_

_I want to see Dina again. I want to kiss her, on the lips, preferably. I want her to hold me. I want to see JJ. Shit, I’d even be happy to see Dale right now. I want to tell Maria she’s as important to me as I seem to be to her. I want to sit by Joel and Tommy, and tell them about this journey. I want to tell Maedlyn I’m sorry, for that sunset._

_Instead I get this quiet medical wing, a sunny view of a ruined city through this square window, and a cold, loveless meal._

_This better not take forever._

* * *

_Okay, it could be worse. It’s another morning, and everyone’s gone again. Last night though, around five, all the ‘grunts,’ as Abby called herself, came back and the atmosphere changed completely. Pretty much everyone but me is stoked. Lev and Abby ate with me and Clint, then we played more cribbage. A couple of Japanese soldiers came down and found us. I guess I’m kind of a celebrity, woo hoo. Gakuto and Hiro. They were nice. They coaxed Clint and me upstairs, where the Japanese brigade is bunking._

_I got a lot more attention than I like. Most of it was in Japanese, but maybe a quarter of them speak some amount of English. They offered us sake, which, I’ll take whiskey any day of the week, but honestly it wasn’t bad._

_Hiro’s friend Atsuo had a shogi board, which I guess is like Japanese chess, and that got my attention. We played a game, and I won. He had to stop me a couple times to explain rules differences, but it plays similarly. Then we played again and I guess he got a lot more serious because he kicked my butt. Then I played Clint and kicked his ass, though, so it was good all in all._

_People kept playing but I hung back and watched after that, sipping sake out of these little dishes they use. Hiro and his friends told me their story of coming here, and we told them ours. It was pretty crazy. I guess there was an immune girl in Japan, too. The fighting is pretty bad there, though, and more widespread, across different factions. She was being protected by Aka Taka (Red Hawk) in this old building, an actual castle. But then Kizento Shita (The Resolute) attacked because they were trying to dominate the region. It wasn’t even about the girl. There was this huge battle. She was killed in the destruction. They couldn’t even recover her body. Hiro says everyone in the brigade was crying the night they received the news. Watanabe was devastated._

_Hiro says when they heard about me in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, everyone went crazy. When Watanabe got the news, he jumped out of his chair and dropped straight to the floor and started praying._

_I don’t know what to feel about that._

_They were rapt when we started telling our story. Hiro was translating for a few of the guys, and they kept asking over and over about how we left Jackson. I had to say it like three different ways. Yes, it was just the two of us. They couldn’t believe it, and just as much the fact that we actually made it._

_When I started telling the story, I surprised myself, because in hindsight there were a lot of crazy moments. It was like an epic novel or something. Or a comic book. They were particularly fascinated with Grand Junction, and yeah, the way I broke us out of that jail was pretty shocking. If someone had asked me in that jail cell, and I were being honest, I’d say our chances had been slim to none. I guess that’s why I wasn’t thinking about it like that at the time. But we made it._

_It started getting late, so we said our goodbyes and went back to our bunks. Clint kept going on about the stories from Japan. The war stories and political drama. It was fascinating and terrible at the same time. I indulged him for a while, but the day and the sake must have caught up with him, because he passed out almost all at once. It was amusing. And thankfully, I fell asleep a lot easier too. No nightmares, even._

_Grayson stopped me when he saw me this morning. He said it seemed like I kind of brooded my way through the day yesterday, which isn’t wrong. He told me if I didn’t feel like brooding all day today, I should come to the conference room, he’d let me listen to comms and keep tabs on things. So I guess I’ll do that. Better than staring out a window._

_I’m actually looking forward to tonight._

* * *

_Well, it’s officially been a week. Life is different here from Catalina. Not nearly as safe, or rosy or comfortable. But other than the food, I like it better._

_That first day Ellie told me she felt like she was going crazy, doing nothing all day. I felt for her. After that she started sitting in on central command, listening to comms. She said she was reluctant at first, but it quickly became super interesting. She’d be right by Grayson’s side, looking at maps. She started making comments, here and there. Now I hear her voice on the comms pretty regularly. I don’t get to chat with her or anything, she’s just issuing orders, but it makes me smile every time._

_Gotta say, I like how the Fireflies operate. No mercy for the Great Staters that first day, the only right play. But with the infected, they’re ruthless._

_The infected are instinctual, but they aren’t smart. The Fireflies use that against them. Most of the infected we kill are during drives, which is what they call luring a tactically selected area of infected down a single corridor or line of approach, then mowing them down. Sometimes we drop twenty or thirty at once. Bloaters, shamblers, doesn’t matter, against a firing line of automatic rifles, they have no chance. I almost feel bad._

_We’re a moving war party, too. Thirty of us in platoon Bravo, another thirty in Alpha. Everyone else is perimeter, guarding all the areas we’ve secured. We can’t afford to lose our position, obviously. Most of us are basically grunts, like Abby said, anyone who’s good with a gun basically. We’ve also got demolitions, and engineers, and a food guy. Poor guy has to haul this cart of food around all day, so we don’t have to come back until dinner. You can guess demolitions’ job. The engineers are interesting. They’ve got these mechanical door jammers and are also good for any electronic obstacles, which we’ve had a couple. And on several occasions, when we’ve had a door we’re pretty sure we don’t ever want opened again, they weld it shut._

_I’ve probably seen as many infected die in the last few days as Ellie and I have killed since we left Jackson. More, probably. At this point we’ve secured three of the four ‘facility assets’ we need, and we’re firming up the pathways between them. The ways between them in particular need to be 100% secure, because we can’t have twenty guys escorting every scientist or commander or whatever every time they go to and from. We’re on track to nail asset four tomorrow._

_[Scribbles, half-doodles.]_

_I’m still worried for Ellie. 93% is not 100%. We haven’t talked about it since. I feel bad for being angry at her for not telling me, I shouldn’t… but I am still, a little. I can’t lie that a part of me wants to fight this. Wants to sneak her out of here and never come back. And I suspect… there’s a part of her that would be amenable._

_But that’s stupid. This is the mission, coming to fruition._

_I told her not to take my choice from me, and she didn’t. How could I try to take hers?_

_Time for dinner, and, I suspect, to get my ass kicked at shogi again._

* * *

_Wow, today was more exciting. We secured asset four. We had a near-shit-show, though._

_We had secured a lobby area very close to the asset. We were talking about forming the next drive, but the infected made the first move. One spooked and the rest followed suit, charging down the hall. Now, that’s fine, we form up and start firing, but then a bloater_ busts through the wall a few feet behind us _, bringing a bunch of his friends._

_Infected got way closer than they’re supposed to, but in the end we held the line. Someone thought quick and used their underbarrel grenade launcher on the bloater, slowing progress from that quarter, and honestly they might have saved lives._

_There was another point, toward the end, Abby was—Abby’s with me, by the way—she was firing and there was office door next to her. I call out the ten-o-clock and she looks just as a stalker is about to pounce on her. She doesn’t even flinch, she turns her gun and slams the butt into its forehead, and when it stumbles back, stunned, she blows its dome off. She gave me a little look of thanks. She didn’t even look slightly shook. Jesus._

_It clicked today. Back in Jackson in the mess hall, when I flexed my arm for Ellie and she said she’d seen better, who she was talking about. God damn it._

_Look, I’m not vain. It’d just be nice to hear a little something now and then. ‘Lean mass, Clint, nice.’ ‘Great shot, Clint.’ Praise from Ellie is rare and generally faint._

_God damn it. I’m being soft again, aren’t I? Well fuck it, it’s my god damn journal._

_How to change the subject…_

_Oh, hah, I forgot. So you know, things are tough, the Med Center is secure, but not exactly luxury, right? This is front line work. But, people adapt, right?_

_So everyone bunks in those two wings in the admin building, near command. But Bravo has made a couple… side acquisitions. There have been a couple wings with closed-door beds. We didn’t need them, but we secured them anyway, so… they now serve as, you know, conjugal visit arrangements. Not official, of course. I’ve seen more than one couple go off in the middle of the day, while we’re at a break, eating. I guess the captain owed them favors or something. And you know people sneak out after dinner._

_I mean I haven’t, just… you know, it’s funny._

_Um… there is…_

_Eh, it must be bad if I’m too afraid to write it here. Prying eyes and such._

_Ah, break’s over. Back to work._

* * *

_Dude. Oh my god, I was going to write about other stuff, but this just happened. Fucking Clint._

_So I know about the ‘conjugal visit’ suites or whatever. Which, fuck you all, can I have nothing? I hunted down Mara last night and you know, talked to her… When she realized what I was about, she was like ‘ **hell, no**.’ She said if she tried to sneak me out she’d be on latrine duty for the rest of her life. Fuck me._

_So anyway, Clint came back at dinner, we ate, same old, same old. I went down to use the latrine—fucking awesome, by the way—and when I come back, he’s disappeared. I’m like, wtf. Kind of selfish, I guess, but I’m like ‘what better do you have to do than hang out with me?’ I went upstairs and Hiro and the guys were welcoming, but Clint wasn’t there either._

_I come back down a while later, and I see him walking in through East Point, which, the only thing out that way are cleared areas—basically, that’s where the day work is. That, and the ‘conjugal suites.’ He had this look on his face. He was totally embarrassed, which was funny, but I was also envious. I’m all ‘who’s the lucky girl? Who’s the lucky girl?’ He refused to talk._

_So, I slyly loiter around, talking to people by East Point until a girl ‘casually’ comes in through East Point, an ‘inconspicuous’ amount of time later._

_And who do I see walk through the doors? Fucking Abby._

_She was a little taken aback, but way less obvious than Clint. I was probably more shocked. She just cocks an eyebrow and walks away._

_I’m like…_

_I don’t know what to think._

_I mean I fully intended to high five Clint, but now it’s like should I punch him?_

_I’m not actually mad. I think I’ll just confront him about it. I’m not letting it fly under the radar._

_What a dog._

* * *

_I just checked the calendar, out of curiosity. It will have been a month tomorrow since we took the Med Center. I knew it had been a while, but that surprised me._

_Ellie’s bed is surrounded by drawings now. She says she spends most of the day doing that, since command is more boring now. She also confessed that it’s mostly talk about science-oriented progress now, and that involves mixed feelings for her. I get it._

_I asked her about the drawings, if she was showing them off, or what. She was confounded. She said she didn’t care what other people thought, she just liked them. Which makes sense._

_There are a few of Dina, a bunch of JJ, some of Maria, Tommy— **Maedlyn, interestingly** —and one of Joel, in a discreet corner. I’ve refrained from commenting._

_It’s nice. I wish I could do that. I wish she knew Bev, maybe she would draw her for me. Maybe I’ll ask if she could draw mom._

_Days are mostly boring now. Now that we’re not clearing anymore, they’ve got me posted as a guard in Oncology. So, boring. But Abby’s posted there too, which is a bonus. Don’t get to see her on shift, but we take all our breaks together._

_She and Ellie are still on the cool side, but they get along alright. Shit, I just remembered that conversation with Ellie, the first time… you know… with Abby._

_Damn it, Ellie is such a headache sometimes. She can act so indifferent, when we were on the road. Then this thing happens and she’s all in my business. I didn’t tell her much in the end, but I did warn her it might not be the last time. And it wasn’t, spoilers._

_Ellie can deal with it._

_Abby’s great, actually. At first glance you might think she’s stony. And that’s what she wants you to think, she’s been a soldier pretty much her whole life. She can handle herself as well as anyone I’ve ever met. She can be icy, but it’s only because she knows how fast things can go to shit. Like Ellie. And this whole ‘adventure’ has taught me a lot, too._

_She’s got a warm side, same as anyone. Lev obviously benefits from it. I’m starting to a little as well._

_We spend a lot of time swapping stories, some funny, some not. We talk about work sometimes, but not so much. I remember when I was talking about all the stuff we saw, crossing the country, she’d commented that she wouldn’t mind seeing more of it. Catalina’s nice, but she feels a bit cooped up._

_She says the soldier life suits her, it’s all she’s known. So she’s good with staying in the Fireflies, but she confessed she was worried about Lev. She said he’s adapted to the Fireflies, but it’s not really where he’s meant to be, she thinks. She doesn’t know what to do, though. I feel for her. She’s really taken on responsibility for him. Their story is crazy. It’s good, though. He’s not a burden, he’s a gift, she said once. I’m glad they have each other._

_Ellie’s already sleeping. I can see her, breathing easily under her blanket. I’m glad she’s found something like equilibrium here. She complains constantly about being caged up, which is fair, but from another perspective I feel like she’s finally being afforded the respect and protection she deserves. Not just because she’s immune._

_I guess I ought to lights out as well. Until tomorrow._

* * *

_Well, fuck me for thinking things were getting too boring to stand. Testing started today._

_Grayson warned me last night, all the equipment is good to go. ‘You’ll finally get what you want.’ To leave this wing, he meant. I see now why he called it a ‘warning.’_

_They poked all sorts of holes in me. Mara was the one taking blood samples. I kept being like ‘are you done yet?!’ There were like fifteen little vials on the table. She smiled and said they were taking as much as they safely could. They gave me a bunch of orange juice afterwards, which was actually great, there’s not a lot of that going around._

Then _, though, they drew cerebrospinal fluid. Fuck. That. It was this huge needle and it hurt like hell. They kept assuring me it was very important. They poked me in like six spots._

_And after that extravaganza they did a CAT scan. It was this huge donut shaped machine, with a sliding gurney thing that rolled into it. They scanned my head._

_It was super surreal. Once it started, the lights got dim and they told me to lie as still as possible. They rolled me into the cavernous hole and it’s like a little dark and claustrophobic, you know. It took like fifteen minutes. The thing keeps making these crazy mechanical sounds over my head, and the whole time there’s this strange, electric pulsing sound every other second. It felt like I was in a sci-fi movie._

_Afterward I’m like what the hell was the point of that? The science guy, Liam, said it uses electromagnetic tech to basically make a 3d map of my brain. He showed me some of it. It was hard to even tell what I was looking at. It was crazy, though. I could see the infection, for the first time. It spread like a river delta all over the left side of my brain. It was creepy, but… fascinating, too._

_Dr. Watanabe was there at one point. He kept thanking me. He’s been really respectful… it’s nice. It would have sucked if he was a dick._

_Anyway, he says they’re going to continue to draw fluid as often as they could, to maximize testing. It’s very incremental, he said. Meaning all they can really do is test A, and if it doesn’t work, test B, and so on._

_He says the samples are important because they eliminate, for now, the need for human testing._

_Human testing. I had never even thought of that. It’s fucking horrible._

_I guess I can suck it up._

_Of course I asked him about the surgery. He says they will almost certainly still need to do it, and unfortunately he can’t tell me when. The testing will decide on that. Probably in a week or two, though._

_Clint asked me how it went when I got back. I didn’t say anything, I just hugged him. I didn’t want to say I was scared out loud. We ate and played cribbage for a while. He asked me if I could draw a picture for him, of his mom. I told him it had been a while, but I would do my best tomorrow. I’m going to bed early._

_At least I’ll get lots of orange juice._

* * *

Clint plays a four. It’s pretty limp, but it brings the count to nine, which means Ellie’s five isn’t likely to get her a point, and in fact if she plays it, Lev could get a straight off of it.

“Why do we always play Cribbage?” Ellie asks.

“Because everyone but you likes it,” says Abby. Her eyes focus up. “And if you would just admit it, you like it, too.”

Ellie grunts. She plays the five. Lev plays an ace and pegs the point for making fifteen. He got a lot better really fast.

“It’s true, Ellie,” says Lev. “You don’t seem to like the playing part, but when you get a good crib you get super excited.”

She tries not to smile and fails. “Well it’s nice to get something other than face card now and then.”

Clint rolls his eyes, but she doesn’t get a full rise out of him.

“We could play shogi,” says Ellie, not for the first time.

“Only two people can play shogi,” replies Abby.

“Yeah, but it’s super interesting to watch,” says Ellie.

“Mainly for you,” says Clint.

“Plus I’m not interested in losing to you thirty times just to learn how it works,” says Abby.

“We could play Go,” says Lev. Go is a very different strategy game that the Japanese soldiers had brought with them. It’s turn based and strategic like Chess, but consists of playing identical white and black circular pieces freely on a huge open grid. The soldiers had started teaching Lev and he had learned very quickly. He’s one of the best players up there, now. He’d been trying to get them to let him teach them for ages.

“That’s the same thing,” says Ellie, “except we’re losing to you thirty times in a row.”

“But it’s got such depth!” says Lev, earnest pleading in his eyes. “If you like Chess, you would _love_ Go, Ellie!”

He’s so cute. He really likes her and it’s obvious. Not, like, too much, but a lot. He’s great, too. Ellie loves having him around.

“Maybe…” she concedes. She plays a nine and this time she does get fifteen. She moves her peg. “It would probably beat cribbage.”

“Cribbage is nice because you don’t have to think so—“

Clint is interrupted by the appearance of Grayson around their curtain. They all look up, surprised.

“Evening,” he says casually, or as casually as a commander ever sounds. “Where’s the strategy games?” Both American and Japanese command had been pleased with the popularity of those games.

“With respect, sir,” says Clint, “Cribbage is a game of deep strategy.”

Abby scoffs.

Grayson cracks a smile, but bears a serious look when he turns to Ellie. “Coulsen, would you join me?”

Ellie’s stomach twists. She stands up, and hesitates. “Can Clint come?”

“He may,” says Grayson.

He turns and Ellie follows him, Clint behind her.

“Keep us in the loop?” says Abby.

Ellie nods, half turning.

Grayson leads them into the conference room. It’s relatively quiet. Sanchez is at comms, speaking intermittently. The captains are at a table near the back, speaking quietly. They glance her way. Dr. Watanabe is sitting in the same chair as the first night. He bows his head in Ellie’s direction, smiling. She bows back, a gesture of respect she’s learned from the Japanese soldiers. His translator, Dr. Ikeda, who Ellie has learned is also a talented scientist, sits next to him.

Grayson sits in an open chair and gestures for Ellie to do the same, which she does.

Dr. Watanabe speaks. Dr. Ikeda begins to translate, but Ellie already knows what she is going to say.

“We have arrived at the point in our research where we are ready to perform the surgery. A sample of the infection that your body quelled may lead us to an effective cure in the relatively near future.”

Ellie feels out of place, uncomfortable. She nods, not knowing what to say.

Dr. Watanabe speaks again.

“It is a lot to ask. You have been one of the best patients I have ever had. I thank you. Do you consent to the surgery?”

He is asking this time. She turns and looks at Clint. He looks back, but his face doesn’t change. It’s not stiff, or scared. It’s just… Clint. But it makes her feel better, somehow. She looks at Dr. Watanabe.

“I consent,” she says quietly.

Dr. Watanabe beams. He almost looks… proud, of her. Grayson is smiling, too, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Will it be… right now?” she asks.

Dr. Ikeda translates and Dr. Watanabe’s brows jump up.

“Oh no,” says Dr. Ikeda. This time, she’s speaking to Ellie directly. “It will be early tomorrow afternoon. Apologies, but we ask that you not eat anything between now and then, as you will be under anesthesia. The doctor is as confident as ever in his abilities. Your CAT scan was very helpful. We are close in our research. In fact, we are half done, but there is another half, and it’s very key. Only you can give us that.”

Half done? Ellie thinks about that. Curing cordyceps? That’s… a lot, actually. She’s still feeling a little unsteady so she just nods.

“Don’t worry, Ellie,” says Grayson. “You are in good hands.”

“Okay,” she says. It’s a little awkward. She stands up.

Dr. Ikeda walks over to her. She bows super low, body parallel with the ground. Then she rises and takes Ellie’s hands. Her smile is so warm. Ellie starts blushing. Partly because it’s such a nice gesture, and partly because Dr. Ikeda is really pretty.

Dr. Ikeda lets go and Dr. Watanabe approaches and bows equally low. He rises and says something in Japanese.

“The land of the rising sun and the land of the setting sun have joined hands,” translates Dr. Ikeda. She hesitates slightly, due to the tone of the words. “And if we work together now, these days may be remembered in history.”

It’s actually really humbling. With that, the doctors leave the room. Grayson is there. He touches her arm.

“I encourage you to get some rest, Ellie.”

She says she’ll try.

* * *

It’s kind of cold, in the hospital gown. Ellie tries not to think about that nightmare, with David.

She’s sitting in a plastic chair in a little waiting area outside the operating room. They told her it would be about ten minutes five minutes ago. She can feel little trembles, here and there. She looks out the window with determination. It’s a beautiful, sunny day. A couple white birds fly by.

The door opens, and Ellie jumps. It’s Clint. He closes it behind him. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

Clint sits down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees. “Hungry?” he asks.

“Oh, fuck you,” she replies, turning away. She’s starving and he knows it. She also know he’s taking her mind off things, and she’s thankful. “What was breakfast today?”

“Bacon, eggs. Orange juice and waffles. I made a sandwich.”

“Yeah, I bet.” She knows it’s a lie. Bacon, as if.

“You got me. But when they mint the cure you know they’ll finally bring out the good stuff.”

“Only if I’m alive to actually hunt up some meat.”

He snorts, but sadness touches his face. “Come on now, Ellie. Nothing can kill you. You know that.”

“Maybe that’s because I hadn’t served my purpose yet,” she says. She looks out the window again. She says it casually, but it’s crossed her mind more than once. “Maybe this is finally it.”

“Maybe. But why does that have to be the end?” Clint asks. “What about everything waiting for you back in Jackson?”

Ellie doesn’t reply. More of those pretty white birds fly by. She thinks they’re doves.

“You have to make it back. You know you’re going to be the next mayor.”

“What?” that honestly catches her by surprise. “As _if_ , dude. I’m not gonna be in charge of all those people.”

“Eh,” he says, “I think Maria might disagree.”

“I seriously doubt—“ Ellie is interrupted by the operating room door opening. It’s Dr. Watanabe.

“We are ready,” he enunciates in thickly accented English. He must have practiced it. He looks sober, but his eyes carry a determined warmth. He wants to reassure her.

She stands up and Clint rises as well. Without hesitation he walks over and hugs her. “You aren’t done,” he whispers before letting her go. He walks out without looking back.

Ellie meets the doctor’s eyes. “I’m ready, too,” she says. She manages to sound like she means it.


	21. Immunoglobulin E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty key. Enjoy.

It’s perfect. Eggs, bacon, orange juice, and the waffles are steaming. She could make a sandwich if she wanted. She giggles. She takes the syrup and pours it generously.

“Well, don’t use it all at once, now,” says Joel. His censure hits about as hard as a pillow these days.

“Nope,” she says, “just enough.”

“You got it all over your bacon,” he points out.

“That was on purpose.”

“On purpose? Well…” he scratches the side of his head. “Times do change…”

It’s a gorgeous morning in Joel’s dining room. Warm sunlight pours through the window. It’s Saturday, they can do whatever they want. And they get to spend it together. Ellie’s smiling even bigger on the inside.

“Clint likes to make sandwiches with this stuff,” she says, mouth full of waffle.

“Which stuff?”

Ellie looks back blankly then gestures to everything on her plate.

“Really?” says Joel. “Well that might not be bad… I prefer ‘em separate, though.” Joel takes a swig of orange juice. “You and him, you’re close these days.”

She narrows her eyes. “You know we’re just friends.”

Joel chuckles. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’m just sayin’. Makes me smile, seein’ you getting along with kids—“ he stops himself, “— _folks_ , your own age. You deserve that.” He cuts a bit of waffle and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. He swallows. “Time was, that’d be just about your only job, at 14. Times are different now, but this Jackson life.” He inclines his head. “It ain’t bad.”

Ellie’s knowledge of the before-times are academic at best. But she can’t disagree. She grins, mouth full of food. “Yeah… not half bad.”

Thinking about Clint moves something at the back of her mind. There’s a tremor in the ground.

Joel’s eyes widen. “Oh… so soon?”

 _The land of the rising sun and the land of the setting sun have joined hands_.

There’s another tremor and the light from the window dims. She can barely see Joel anymore.

“I was hoping we could…” Joel begins.

“Joel?” she says, confused and scared.

“Don’t worry, girl, I’ll always be here.”

The dimming continues until everything is dark, and she’s not anywhere anymore.

“But I—“

She can still hear Joel’s voice. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

She’s drifting away.

“Tommy was right, you know,” Joel’s drawl drifts to her through the void. “You are a treasure, that’s a fact.”

* * *

Ellie’s face is warm. The light is bright through her eyelids. She squints them, groaning. She turns slightly, but the light persists.

She tries to raise her arm, but her body is heavy. She tries harder, and pulls it up from under the blanket, shading her face. She grunts.

She opens her eyes. The light is coming from the sun, just peeking around the corner of the window by the bed. She turns, and Clint is there.

He’s slumped comically in a chair by her bed, sleeping.

“Clint?” she says. Her voice is gravelly from sleep.

He starts, but his eyes are still closed. He rouses himself slowly, rubbing his left eye. He half opens them and sees Ellie. He jumps up in his chair.

“Ellie? Oh crap, you’re awake. Hey.” He’s still half-asleep, but he leans forward. He yawns, stretching his arms out wide. He rubs more sleep from his eyes, and chuckles, resting his arms on his knees. “So what’s it like to have half a brain?”

Ellie blinks. “What…? Half a brain?!”

He laughs. “I’m fucking with you, dude. How do you feel?”

She sighs in exasperation. For a split second she thought something had gone wrong in the surgery and he was serious. “Asshole. I feel fine. I mean, half dead, but fine.”

“You were just out really hard.”

“How long?”

“Like sixteen hours.”

“Holy crap.”

“Yeah, guess you needed it.”

Ellie looks down. Her right arm is on top of the blankets. There’s an IV in it. “Did it go… okay?”

“Yeah, it went fine. As far as they can tell. Dr. Ikeda says they always monitor patients after neurosurgery for unpredictable side effects.”

“Unpredictable—“

“They’re rare, really rare, don’t think about that. Anyway, it went fine. But I should really get them, they’ll want to—” He starts to get up.

“No,” says Ellie, “no, not yet. I want the lowdown first.”

Clint settles back into his chair. “Alright. Like what?”

“Did they make the cure?”

He chuckles again. “Well, they said it would take weeks, probably. If what they got is enough at all. But they’re working on it, hard, trust me.”

“Ugh,” says Ellie. Was this shit ever going to end? The light from the sun is just blasting her in the face. “Man, can you do something about this fucking…” She gestures to it.

“Oh, you don’t like getting blinded?” Clint gets up and drops the blinds, moving them to diminish the sunlight. The room is still pretty well lit.

“Did you guys drink all the champagne while I was out?” Ellie asks.

“No champagne yet. Cure first.”

Ellie reaches up a hand toward the left side of her head. “Is it bad?”

“Oh, it’s horrible,” he says. He’s being a dick. “Should I call you baldy now?”

Ellie stiffens. “What?” She touches around the left side of her head, then her fingers touch bare skin where there’s definitely supposed to be hair. “What the fuck!?”

Clint fails to suppress a laugh. “I know they told you they would have to do that.”

“Did they shave like half my head?” she asks, fingers probing frantically.

“No,” he’s still laughing, bastard. “Ellie, it’s not that bad.”

“Give me a mirror.”

“I’m telling you—“

“Mirror!”

Clint makes a helpless gesture with his hands. He looks around. There’s a little table next to the bed. He opens the drawer and sorts through it. He ends up picking up a metal tray, dumping what’s on it, and handing it to Ellie.

She holds it up so she can see her reflection in the steel, turning her head. Pulling some of her hair to the side, she can indeed see a bald spot on the side of her head, maybe an inch and a half in diameter. And now she can see the incision, probably about an inch. It’s perfectly straight, and the stitches are tight and professional.

“Damn it…” She plays with her hair. She should be able to cover it for the most part, but it looks super dopey.

“That’s your biggest concern?”

“My biggest concern is being alive!” she says, a little too loudly. And with that, the mood changes. It’s awkward for a second. Ellie drops her head on the pillow, and the tray on the bed next to her.

“Yeah,” says Clint, taking the tray and putting it back in the drawer, closing it. “Mine too.”

Laying in bed, Ellie’s body is nice and comfortable. But other than that, she doesn’t know what to feel. Except relief, that’s there. That’s for sure.

She looks at Clint. He’s got this little smile. He takes a deep breath. She should say something but there’s nothing there. He speaks first.

“I know you felt like your time had finally come,” he says.

Ellie frowns slightly. How could he know that?

“Like it would be right, for you to die in the operating room. That’s what was going to happen at St. Mary’s, right?”

She stares.

“It wouldn’t have been right, though,” he says. He’s thinking, hard. He starts nodding. “It wouldn’t have been right. You’ve been through all this labor, all this fighting. You’ve taken little. You’ve sacrificed a lot. You deserve a reward, not…” he gestures, looking for the word, “…rest.”

“Rest is a reward,” says Ellie.

He looks at her, sad, but not arguing. “You want to go back to Jackson, right?”

Her eyes are getting misty. She breathes fast through her nose and looks away. She nods.

“I’ll take you, then,” he says.

She looks at him and keeps nodding. She means it now. She wants to go back. She wants to see them again, touch them again. She wants to get Clint back to May, too.

He pats his legs, standing. “Time for me to report.”

“I just—“ Ellie starts. Clint looks at her. “You said this could take weeks?”

“They really can’t say for sure.”

Ellie sighs.

“What?”

“I’m just ready to be home.”

“Me too,” says Clint. “Me too, Ellie.”

* * *

And the weeks drag on. Ellie sees the doctors, now and then. Usually, they’ve got creased brows, talking quietly but urgently. Debating. It’s in Japanese, so Ellie can’t follow it. Sometimes, they’re excited, though, and she can hear them postulating in their rapid, angular language.

And for her, maddeningly, little changes. For over a week Grayson keeps her caged up in the same ward, and Ellie is just about at her limit. She finally corners him in the conference room and begs for him to let her go outside. He pinches his cheek, but he relents. He lets her go out with Clint, Abby and Lev, and a few more guards.

The Fireflies have cleared a few outside areas of the Med Center. So they take a stroll around. The feeling of a cool Summer breeze on her face, an open blue sky above her, is heaven.

There’s a lot of pavement and sheer concrete buildings, but any areas of open earth have been reclaimed by nature. Tall grass and adult trees provide lots of green and shade. Seems like the soil near the twin rivers of Sacramento is rich, allowing plant life to thrive.

They come across an old fountain. It’s actually running. A few weeks ago they had succeeded in restoring water pressure, which had substantially boosted morale. Running water, warm showers, the toilets even worked again, with a little tooling. Although command had warned that unmaintained infrastructure could change things at any time.

And this fountain had certainly not been an intended side effect, but here it was. It’s a wide, circular basin, maybe fifteen feet across, with multiple tiers of basins above it, all running with crystal clear water. They look at it for a few seconds in silence. Then Ellie puts one foot on the lip of the lower basin, steps up and falls in backwards.

There’s a loud splash and a shock of cold all around her body. Not Wyoming Winter cold, though. Just refreshing cold. She lets her body float to the surface. She opens her eyes and Abby is the first face she sees.

“Ellie, what are you doing?” she hears, the words muted and distorted by the water.

“Anything,” Ellie replies.

She sees Lev stand on the edge, back to the water.

“Lev—“ Abby starts, she even reaches for him, but he closes his eyes and fall sin backward.

Ellie laughs as the shockwaves from his splashing entry push her body.

Abby shakes her head and turns around. Clint leans in and says something to her, and she scoffs.

No one else gets in but they let Ellie soak for a few minutes. She kicks her feet and drifts slowly around the man-made pond. At one point she passes Lev, and they exchange smiles.

Eventually she climbs out and they resume. The guards say they have another hour. “Alright, alright,” says Ellie. After a little while in the bright sun she’s mostly dry again. They enter a little copse of trees between two tall buildings. Sunlight filters through the leaves. It’s a warm day, and the shade is really nice. Ellie sits down against the trunk of one of the trees. Miraculously, the others have given her distance. So she just relaxes and enjoys the reprieve from that damn medical wing.

She reaches up and touches the area around the incision. The hair is just starting to grow back, little more than stubble. It would take years to grow all the way in.

After a few minutes, she hears footsteps approaching. She looks up, and it’s Abby.

“Nice spot,” says Abby.

“Was,” says Ellie, but she doesn’t mean it. The two of them have settled into an acceptance of the other, accompanied with a healthy dose of tongue in cheek sniping.

Abby doesn’t respond and approaches a tree a few feet ahead of Ellie. She crouches down and sits against it, similarly to Ellie. She doesn’t say anything, glances around at the sunlit branches above them. Ellie narrows her eyes.

“You’ve got something to say,” says Ellie.

Abby appraises her.

“Ah,” says Ellie, nodding. “I get it. You’re here to ask for Clint’s sweet hand, in marriage.”

Abby’s stunned. She wants to say something but she can’t, she just looks away and scoffs loudly.

Ellie laughs. “I’m just fucking with you.” She thinks. “Think I’m setting a bad example for Lev?”

Abby frowns. Then it clicks, and she scoffs again. “What, with the fountain? No… Honestly, Lev could use more chances to just be a kid.”

“He’s growing up, you know.”

“Well, he ain’t grown yet.” Abby seems firm about that. “I’ve got a question for you. What are you guys gonna do, if they finish the cure?”

Ellie frowns faintly. “Get our asses back to Jackson,” she says as if it’s obvious.

Abby nods. “What’s Jackson like? Looked kinda like a prison with those high walls and floodlights.”

“A prison?” Ellie asks, lifting her had off the tree behind her. “I mean, I guess it’s supposed to look intimidating, but those walls are just for protection. Jackson is…” She looks into the distance, trying to put it into words. “Jackson’s the closest thing to a normal place to live there is anymore.”

Abby screws up her face. “What’s ‘normal?’”

“I say that…” Ellie trails off, thinking of Joel. “I say that because that’s what Joel used to say. He meant… Jackson is as close as you can get to what it was like before. Pre-outbreak.”

Abby watches, frowning, but interested. “And how’s that?”

Ellie considers Abby. Thinking about it, Abby might have no way of knowing. Ellie shrugs. “You don’t have to be afraid of dying all the time. You get a job. You get notes, currency. You can be sure of your next meal. The law is upheld, but not like FEDRA. Not like… fucking authoritarian military government shit. It’s not restricted to enlisting or… being a stooge making meals for the military or sewing up wounds. There are bakers, tanners, gunsmiths, movie theaters. Popcorn. Candy. Bookstores and cafés.”

Abby’s still frowning. “And what do the workers do?”

“What do they do?” Ellie asks. Abby’s not getting it. She really does only know this life, with the Fireflies. “Everything I just said. Basically whatever you’re good at. It doesn’t have to be much, you just have to work. You might have to fix it yourself, but you can have your own house or at the very least a room. I don’t know how to explain, it’s not like here. Everyone’s not on the same schedule. Maria’s the mayor and what she says goes, but she’s not issuing orders to every citizen. There’s patrol, to keep the area safe. And the guard, to keep the town safe. Everyone else just lives life, like—“ She thinks of Catalina. “Like all those people I saw in the town, in the bay, on Catalina.”

Abby nods, understanding. “Civilians.”

“I guess, yeah, but we don’t even have a use for that word in Jackson.” Now Ellie’s frowning. “Why are you so interested?”

Abby’s a little uncomfortable, Ellie can tell. She works her mouth and looks around, thinking.

There’s a flutter and they both look up. A bright blue bird lands on a branch not far from them. It watches them with interest. It hops on the slim branch a couple times, bobbing it up and down. It cheeps at them, then takes flight and disappears through the limbs above. For a few moments, there’s nothing to say.

“Would you take us back to Jackson?” Abby asks suddenly.

Ellie is taken aback. “W… what?”

Abby sets her jaw. “I know it doesn’t make sense, just listen… Lev is not meant for a place like this. For one thing, he’s a kid. For another… he’s got a big heart.”

“You can’t have a big heart in the Fireflies?”

“People don’t serve here to live,” says Abby. “They serve in the hopes that someday, other people can live.”

That’s a pretty bold and profound statement. Ellie didn’t expect it from Abby. She doesn’t reply.

“That shouldn’t fall to Lev.”

“What about you?” Ellie asks. “I thought you were a Firefly for life.”

“Me, too…” Abby admits. “But Lev won’t go without me.”

“I know.”

“And the work here is almost done.”

“There’ll be plenty of work after, if they even make the cure.”

“I know.”

“You want out?”

That stops Abby. She looks away. She looks… guilty. She makes up her mind and looks at Ellie. “A little. Yeah. I do.”

“How much does this have to do with Clint?”

Now Abby’s taken aback. “That’s not… I don’t… come on, that’s not it.”

The corner of Ellie’s lip curls upward. “It’s not?”

Abby expels air, exasperated. “Look—“

“They know about you in Jackson, you know.”

Abby pauses.

“You could even say you’re infamous.”

“I figured.”

“So you’d need me to escort you in.”

“I would.”

“And you’re asking.”

“Yeah,” Abby finishes, “I’m asking.”

Ellie rests her head against the tree once again. She looks around for the blue bird, but it’s gone. She draws in a deep breath, filling her lungs all the way, then releases it.

“Acceptable,” she says.

“Really?” Abby actually sounds surprised.

“Jackson is a free city, I can’t tell you not to go there.”

“Yeah, but… what you just said, about me being infamous—“

“I said acceptable,” says Ellie. “Better take it before I change my mind. And I’m thinking about the road back to Jackson, too. You could be helpful.”

“Yeah, that’s a thought,” says Abby.

The two girls stay there a while. Some things drift through Ellie’s mind. Things maybe she should say, could say. She sees some thoughts pass over Abby’s face, as well. But in the end, the two just sit together for a while, in silence.

* * *

When they get to the room, they find Grayson, Ikeda and Watanabe waiting for them. It’s a lesser-used conference room on the other side of the floor from command. Grayson’s seated at one side of the table, toward the end, and the doctors are standing across from him. Sun streams through the windows. It’s early afternoon. Grayson gestures for them to sit.

“Class time! Make yourself comfortable.”

Ellie walks in, Clint and Abby close behind her. They sit in the same order, next to Grayson.

“Is there going to be a test?” Ellie asks.

Dr. Ikeda smiles, and shares with Watanabe, who laughs. He says something to Ikeda.

“No, but I bet you’ll pay attention anyway,” she translates.

“What is this, exactly?” says Abby to Grayson.

“The good doctors are ready to update us on their progress. They invited you all—well, no, they invited Ellie and she twisted my arm to get you two in here. So you obviously owe me one, Andersen.”

Abby glances at him and makes a _tss_ sound with her tongue.

“Thank you all for being here,” says Dr. Ikeda. Ellie really likes her accent. She must have gotten a lot of practice speaking English in Japan, because she’s honestly better at it than Ellie. “It will take a few minutes, but I will break it down as well as I can.” Ellie tries not to blush. She’s a growing fan of the younger doctor. “Are you ready?” Dr. Ikeda finishes.

Ellie glances at Clint. He returns her looks like _I dunno, I guess?_ Ellie actually laughs. “We’re ready,” she says.

Dr. Ikeda clears her throat.

“ _Cordyceps hominis manducans_ is not the first fungal infection that humankind has dealt with,” begins Dr. Ikeda. “There is a long history of treatment of fungal infections from institutions around the world. Primarily, the concern has traditionally been for those who have compromised immune systems. And treatment is generally successful as long as the infection is correctly diagnosed early enough.

“There are a few antifungal medications, but the one that is most effective against cordyceps is amphotericin B. It is powerful, so powerful that it must be dosed carefully so as not to kill the patient. However, even this treatment has proven unequal to the CHM. It merely slows it. Nonetheless, it is component number one of our experimental treatment.”

Dr. Ikeda reaches into a pocket and pulls out a vial, placing it on the table in front of her, almost like a shogi piece. It contains a translucent, yellowish fluid with sediment on the bottom. She looks at Dr. Watanabe and asks him something in Japanese. They converse briefly, Dr. Ikeda nods, and continues.

“Cordyceps—the cordyceps in question, that is, there are hundreds of other species—evolved to attack the human brain both quickly and ruthlessly, which is generally how the fungus succeeds. Whether the infection is begun in the blood, in the lungs, or through the skin, it always takes root in the brain. It generally begins in the auditory cortex, spreading into the sensory and motor cortexes, at which point its effect begins to become evident in a living human. This happened to Ellie, as well.”

Hearing her name, Ellie lifts her head from the hand it had been resting on. “Well, what was different about me?”

The doctors confer in Japanese again briefly. It looks like Dr. Ikeda just wants to keep Dr. Watanabe in the loop. She nods again.

“For you, Ellie, it was your body’s immune response. The immune response is not monolithic. In fact, it is enormously complex. Think of it like the military; it’s not just an endless marching mass of soldiers. It is soldiers, medics, tanks. There is an air force, and a navy. There are intelligence operatives, and communications specialists. This is all an allegory, but I’m saying there are many aspects and stages of an immune response.

“Cordyceps, for its part, has proved a strange and ruthless conqueror. Not only does the average infected person’s immune response fail, it is a total failure. This is why immunity, or, put another way, the survival rate, is virtually zero.”

“Then how am I still here?” Ellie asks, growing agitated.

“Yes,” says Dr. Ikeda, “I will explain. We used the samples you provided us to test your immune system in a hundred different ways. More than that. We wanted to see what was your secret to winning. And, in test after test, your immune system, like most, would fall before new cordyceps infection. Then, finally, we discovered something. The answer was in your B lymphocytes.

“B lymphocytes identify antigens—invader cells—and flag them for attack by the rest of the immune system. So B lymphocytes are kind of like scouts. The problem with cordyceps, is that despite its genetics remaining generally unchanged, its antigens are never the same. They disguise themselves. So we cannot vaccinate against cordyceps the way we might for other infections. Trust us, we have tried.

“Somehow, though, your B lymphocytes see through the illusion. The story of your infection is this: the infection began normally, as cordyceps multiplied and spread through your bloodstream, largely unnoticed. Here and there, your B lymphocytes must have encountered this new threat, and signaled attack. But a broader response is only called for once a certain threshold is reached.

Cordyceps succeeded in taking this window to take root in the auditory center, as usual. At this point, though, your B lymphocytes finally perceived the true extent of the threat, and sent out the call for a total immune response, and from there, the war began.

“Normally, while growing through the brain, cordyceps causes rampant destruction. Destruction which enables its most emergent life pattern…”

Dr. Ikeda trails off, looking unsure of itself. She looks to Dr. Watanabe, brow pinched. They have a short exchange. Dr. Ikeda takes a breath and addresses them again.

“It is this destruction which actually enables the penultimate and most critical stage of its growth, which is the deliberately altered behavior of its host.”

The room is quiet. Grayson’s head rests on his fist, and it looks heavy. He nods subtly.

Dr. Ikeda continues.

“However, in your case, due to the proactive nature of your B lymphocytes, battle was on in full. The growth of cordyceps could not be prevented, but destruction of brain tissue was thwarted at every turn. And these battles, for you, I imagine resulted in a powerful headache.”

 _Headache?_ Ellie remembers laying on the ground by that railing, just rolling back and forth in pain, holding her head.

She’s breathing fast. She keeps thinking of Riley. Why couldn’t it have been her, instead?

They’re looking at her, waiting for a reaction. But that’s the last thing they’re going to get. Ellie looks at the floor. Eventually, Dr. Ikeda continues.

“Eventually, the growth of cordyceps was permanently halted, and the war was won. Technically, it lives on, alongside your brain, but it will never grow again. It has lost.”

“Now, what about—“ begins Grayson.

“So what do you do?” Ellie asks. She suppressing tremors. She’s holding down her anger. “How are my lymphocytes or whatever going to help anyone else?”

“That brings us to component two,” says Dr. Ikeda. She reaches into her coat pocket and retrieves a small unlabeled vial, which she places on the table in front of her. It contains a perfectly clear liquid. “The keystone. Immunoglobulin E. Supplements such as this have been used in the past to boost compromised immune systems. In this case, we believe that this substance can induce a patient’s B lymphocytes to react as Ellie’s did, and alongside the antifungal amphotericin, maximize the chance of the patient’s survival.”

“Could that work?” asks Grayson loudly. “Like right now?”

Dr. Ikeda is taken aback. She confers with Dr. Watanabe. He speaks for longer this time, to Grayson. Dr. Ikeda translates.

“Lab testing has shown strong results, but this testing is limited. The only way to know the true efficacy now would be live treatment.”

Grayson balls his fist briefly, frowning in concentration. He covers his mouth with his hand, thinking. “Maybe we can talk to local factions…”

“Sir?” starts Abby.

He considers her, and the rest of them. He leans back in his chair and issues an exasperated laugh. “Jesus, Watanabe, I didn’t know you were this close.” He looks at the three sitting next to them. “Well, I’d have waited longer to bring you into this, but… We can’t infect someone on purpose, obviously. But if we could get our hands on someone who was arbitrarily infected, even if they were from a local faction, we could test this thing. They might cooperate if…”

He looks away again, distracted.

Ellie is staring at the vial of clear liquid on the table. She’s rubbing the two fingers of her left hand gently.

“Immunoglobulin A through D didn’t work out?” Clint asks.

Dr. Ikeda is confused, then she smiles. “No. Actually, it was Dr. Watanabe that insisted on the name.” She looks at Ellie with a warm expression. “The E is for Ellie.”

Ellie goes still. She feels warmth in her cheeks. “What…?”

Dr. Ikeda says something to Dr. Watanabe. He starts smiling too, and responds.

“Um…” Dr. Ikeda thinks. She translates. “You are one of the best patients I’ve ever had. Credit where credit is due.”

Ellie doesn’t know what to say. She’s kind of embarrassed. She looks and Abby’s looking her way, with a similar expression.

Clint’s face is a bit incredulous, but also touched by wonder. “Holy shit, Ellie…” he says.

Ellie looks back at the little vial. “Can I…” she says to Dr. Ikeda.

She nods. “Oh, yes! Go ahead.”

Ellie takes the vial of immunity. She cradles it in her hands. Could it really contain something so precious.

“Almost there, mom,” she whispers, quiet, so no one else can hear.

* * *

_Dr. Ikeda let me keep the vial of immunoglobulin E. I put it in mom’s cigar box. I guess they’re able to make more, in batches, but not a lot at a time. Grayson said they are planning operations to secure facilities for that purpose. And for the amphotericin as well, which he said ‘does not grow on trees.’_

_And in any case, the treatment still needs to be tested._

_Lev was super excited, and tried to get me excited as well, but I was still kind of shell-shocked. I don’t want… I just don’t want to get my hopes up. That’s my right. After everything I hoped for, and lost… I’ll get excited when it’s time for it._

_Clint gave me a hug, and Abby squeezed my arm, which was actually a surprising gesture from her._

_Grayson must be in a hell of a good mood, because I talked to him and he gave me permission to ‘take a walk’ with Mara. He told me not to go outside, is all. And I succeeded in buttering Mara up, too, so today gets high marks._

_Mara’s great. She was right, she’s not. But she’s sure up for a good time. And it’s… you know, it’s nice, just to lay next to someone. She told me about the family she’s lost, and I told her about Jackson. She says she understands. She says you find family, too._

_Abby and Lev. I’m still… I mean it sounds crazy. Bring them back to Jackson. I fled Jackson two years ago with the express intention of seeing her dead. I mean, that’s gone now. I’m kind of surprised she wants to go. Based on what she’s told me, there’s bad memories there._

_But of course, she didn’t see the other side of Jackson. All the good. She’s curious, I saw it in her eyes when we talked about it. She could fit in there. It might be rocky at first. There are some people who won’t want her there on principle. I know I could get them in, though. Especially if we’re bringing… you know. The thing. With us._

_I’m not gonna say it until it’s time._

_Lev would do well there. He wants a girlfriend so bad. He doesn’t say it openly, but it’s obvious. I think he’s a total romantic. With his terrific personality and those cheekbones, I bet he’ll be a total ladykiller._

_Still… it’s a long road._

_And when is Grayson gonna let me go? That’s kind of a major sticking point._

_God, I miss Dina. I feel a little guilty every day I leave her wondering where I am. I know she thinks of me. Maria too._

_And I don’t even want to write about little J._

_I don’t pray, but I pray for him. I just… I reach into the universe and just will for him to know how much I love him._

_I’m so glad he’s surrounded by love where he is. I’m glad he has Dale to play with. I want to play with him again._

_[Tear smudge.]_

_And I will._


	22. New Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! It feels good to be posting again! I've had a lot of distraction during the holidays, but I've been writing here and there. Another chapter should be along before too long. After that chapter... there might be a massive one. It's unwritten, but I know what I want out of it. And I don't think I want to split it up.
> 
> That being said, how do y'all feel about chapters longer than 10,000 words? As always, enjoy.

Clint glances out the window between his bed and Ellie’s. The moon is almost full, bright in the star-strewn sky. He should be sleeping. But he’s not.

He sighs quietly and shifts under his blanket. He glances over at Ellie. Tonight she’s on her side facing him, breathing easily. She might as well be an angel, peaceful like that.

He knows she wakes up frequently. Sometimes she walks quietly around the floor in bare feet, just to have something to do. The night guards are used to it. Some nights are better, though. This is one of them.

Clint can tell she’s felt better since the surgery. And of course she would. Now her anxiety about whether the cure can ever work at all is front and center, and that’s fair. They talk about it sometimes. But they don’t get far. They’re not scientists. Watanabe and Ikeda sure seem confident it can work, he pointed out a while back.

“What else can they do?” was her reply.

He lays back on his pillow and stares at the dim ceiling. In one way, his job since they left Jackson has been extremely simple. Help Ellie. Make whatever she needs to happen, happen. So how does he do that here?

She obviously depends on his company, and that’s fine. Great, actually. What she really needs, though… He chews on his lip.

She just needs to be back in Jackson.

_And if you fucking die protecting me…_

He frowns at the memory.

_I’ll fucking kill you._

He guesses he needs to get his ass back in one piece, as well.

They’re stuck here, though. For the meantime. Salvation is so fucking boring. He does have Abby, though.

With them, it had started… you know, just passing the time, kinda. Or that’s what he told himself. Now, though, he lights up every time he sees her face. She hides it better, but it’s pretty easy to draw a smile out of her. He’s more comfortable with her than he expected he’d be. He’s glad Ellie seems to have accepted it.

And if this thing plays out okay, they’ll be going back to Jackson together.

He lifts his arms and tucks his hands behind his head. He can’t help but smile. Something like that… Seems like a million miles away, but that could be pretty great.

Pretty great…

A few minutes later he’s jerked awake by someone shouting.

“Where’s Ellie!”

The lights come on. People start groaning from various quarters.

“Where’s Ellie? Where is she?”

The asshole, Montes apparently, appears from around the curtain. Ellie’s got a deep frown, she’s rubbing her eye. “The fuck?”

“An infected came in. Free Faction. They’re administering treatment and Grayson called for you.”

There some excited voices around them.

“Nuh, uh,” says Montes. “Just Ellie.” He looks at Clint. “And you apparently, if you want to come.”

He does.

“Well, shit,” says Ellie, “give me a minute.” She climbs out of bed in her tank top and shorts.

“Minute’s all you got. They want to start immediately.”

If any part of Montes is excited for this possibly historic moment, it doesn’t show it. He keeps hurrying them as he leads them briskly into the hallway, at which point he starts jogging, and they follow suit.

Montes leads them down to the emergency room lobby. There’s a small crowd of officers outside one of the rooms. There’s a window revealing the room is lit, but Clint can’t see past all the people.

“Commander!” calls Montes.

Grayson’s head is visible over the crowd. He looks their way and beckons. The officers in front of them move apart, all eyes on Ellie. She pushes through and Clint follows her.

Grayson stands back with his arms crossed. Dr. Ikeda is securing an IV to a young, black man’s arm, while Dr. Watanabe is reading a device monitoring the man’s heart rate. There are two other strangers, clearly Free Faction, with him.

The man in the chair is clearly scared. His face has lost color and his eyes dart over them. He’s sweating. He’s got messy, medium length hair, and angular features. He’s lean, wearing a black button-down shirt and khaki shorts with tennis shoes. There’s a fresh bandage on his right forearm. Almost where Ellie’s bite is.

“Ellie, Clint,” says Grayson. “This is Terrence. He’s accompanied by Kel and Ahna. They came in thirty minutes ago.”

Kel looks like Terrence, they could be brothers. Ahna not so much. She’s cute, but right now they’re all clearly scared. Just like Clint would be, if someone he knew were in that chair.

“You said you’ve done this before?” Terrence asks Grayson.

“No, sir, I said we haven’t done this before. It works in theory and in the lab, but you will be patient number one. And I will also say this: it’s like your people were told by Sierra. This is free-of-charge, but it is also not a guarantee. That being said, you are about to receive what is probably the best treatment on the planet.”

Terrence seems to understand but he’s still breathing fast. He looks at Ellie and Clint. “Who are they?”

“Clint,” Grayson replies, pointing, “and Ellie. You should know, this one is your would-be savior.”

They look at each other. Terrence frowns.

Ellie runs a thumb over her right forearm. She shows him, tracing the bite mark with her finger. “I was bitten here. Almost six years ago.” She lowers her arms, and shrugs. “I survived,” she says, even though it’s obvious.

Terrence looks incredulous, but he obviously wants to believe.

Dr. Watanabe looks up and says something in Japanese.

“You all are stressing my patient out,” translates Dr. Ikeda. “May we please have the room?”

“You heard her,” says Grayson. “Everyone out. And clear the door, would you?”

“Are you gonna let us back in to see him?” says Ahna urgently.

“Yes, but the doctors need some time alone with him, please.”

Ahna stands up, still holding Terrence’s arm. She whispers something in his ear, squeezes his arm, and walks out.

“Till the last day, man,” says Kel. Terrence nods.

Outside the room people have spread apart in to several little groups, talking quietly. Ellie walks over to the window, looking in at the treatment.

“Man, what’s in this bag?” Terrence asks Dr. Ikeda. “Is it supposed to be yellow like that?”

“Yes,” she replies professionally. “It is amphotericin B. It might make you feel not so great. But it will impede the infection.”

“Impede?” Terrence asks.

“It will slow it down,” she clarifies.

She looks at Dr. Watanabe and he looks at his watch. He nods. She produces a vial of clear liquid and draws it into a hypodermic needle.

“And what’s that?” Terrence asks.

“Your best chance,” she replies. She gestures to his arm and looks at him.

He nods, clearly nervous. She gracefully performs the injection.

Terrence looks up and finds Ellie’s eyes again through the window. Neither of them say anything. There’s something on Ellie’s face… She can’t make any promises. She can’t tell him it’s going to be okay. She looks… determined, though.

“This will play out over approximately the next eight hours. We will dose you on amphotericin, and periodically give you more shots. After eight to ten hours, we may be able to help your body beat the infection. This is our best prognosis.”

Terrence lays his head back against the rest. He nods.

“When was the last time you ate?” asks Dr. Ikeda. “We want to make sure you are fed.”

Ahna walks into Clint’s periphery and taps on Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie turns around, surprised.

Ahna’s fairly short and slender. She’s got a dark gray tank top and snug off-white cargo pants. Her hair is thick and wavy, held back by a hair band. “They know what they’re doing?” she asks Ellie.

“Better than anyone I’ve ever met,” she replies.

Ahna looks at Terrence in his chair, and when she does, the fear comes through.

“Are you two together?” Ellie asks her.

Ahna’s eyes snap back to Ellie. She hesitates, then nods.

“You guys are safe,” says Clint. Kel and Ahna look at him. “Whatever happens, Grayson is fair. He’ll let you guys go.”

“We’re not worried about us, man,” says Kel. Kel looks like his brother, but his hair is close cropped. He’s got a dark green hoody on, unzipped, and blue jeans. He looks down and presses his eyes with his fingers. “Just last week I was talking to Terrence out by the mall, on patrol. About how this is the worst part.”

Ellie appraises him.

“When someone gets bit… can’t do nothing, man…”

“Yeah,” says Ellie. Her eyes go far away for a second. “You can’t.”

“How many people you know have been bit?” Ahna asks her.

Ellie looks back, and turns away, thinking. She winces, looking tired. “More than one. There was someone with me, back then.” She gestures weakly with her right arm. “She got bit, too.”

“She turned?”

Ellie nods. She never told Clint that whole story. She looks… really sad.

“I’m sorry,” says Ahna.

“Me, too,” says Ellie. “I thought we could be together. It was the night of our first kiss.”

Ahna’s taken aback. “Jesus…”

“That’s wrong, man…” says Kel.

“Tell me about it,” says Ellie, putting her hands in her pockets. “That’s why I’m here.”

Grayson strides over to them, and eyes turn to him. “Folks. I’d say ‘kids,’ but they grow up fast these days.”

“Have to, sir,” says Kel.

“Well, isn’t that right. We’re trying to change that. They’ll be bringing down food, I’d like to see you two eat.”

Ahna nods. “Thank you.”

Grayson addresses Ellie. “I wanted you to be here, but you don’t have to stay.”

“I’m staying,” says Ellie. “I need to see.”

“You know that means I’m staying, too, then,” says Clint.

Grayson scoffs. “In fact, I do. I’ll make sure there’s enough for everyone.”

He turns and walks away. Ahna is eyeing Ellie. “You guys get special treatment around here, don’t you?”

Ellie smirks. “We manage.”

* * *

From there, the long night begins. There are four plastic chairs beneath the window into Terrence’s room. Ellie sits in one. Clint follows her, then Ahna and Kel join us. After a few minutes, Dr. Watanabe emerges. He gestures, and Ahna and Kel immediately go inside to be with Terrence.

The officers filter out over time. A few come to talk to Clint and Ellie. They words are authoritative, but also reassuring. Dunford comes around, too.

“You guys are in for a long night.”

“Food better be good,” says Ellie.

“I have a feeling it means a lot.”

That gives Ellie pause. Her brow pinches. “What do you mean?”

Dunford gestures to the treatment room subtly. “If I were them, I’d worry about Terrence becoming a test subject once they got him here.”

“He kind of is,” says Ellie.

“Yeah, but he’s not being treated like one, is he? I don’t know if you recognize it, but Grayson having you come down and talk to Terrence is a powerful gesture.”

Ellie frowns, considering. “I’m not sure I do recognize it.”

“Well,” he says, “just know that I think what you said was moving. Concise as it was.” He pats her on the shoulder. “And you,” he says to Clint, “are a lesson in loyalty. You know you don’t get tomorrow off, right?”

Clint actually reports to Dunford, after Lito. He nods, already feeling tired. “Abby still sleeping?”

“Want me to wake her?”

“God, no! Just wondering.”

“She might be cross tomorrow.”

“Well… At least she’ll be better rested. I’ll catch her up.”

“I’m sure you will. Take care, now.”

“You too, sir,” they both say.

After a while, it’s just Clint, Ellie, and a few guards. The doctors and Grayson come and go periodically. For the most part, they sit together in silence.

They’re both exhausted, but sleep is far away. They bring food, and they all eat. It’s actually good stuff. There’s even orange juice, which Clint hasn’t had in ages. It’s absolutely delicious.

They keep an eye on Terrence. In the first hour or so, he calms down quite a bit. Ahna and Kel sit next to his bed in plastic chairs. They talk quietly throughout. The room is never left without a doctor for too long. They keep a close eye on his readings from the machinery. Now and then they do physical tests, checking under his eyelids, and up his nose. He’s uncomfortable, but cooperative.

They dose him with more immunoglobulin E every ninety minutes. Around four, he starts sweating again. At five, the headache starts.

Ahna holds his arm while he rocks side to side on the bed, right hand covering half his face. He groans.

“Is this normal?” Ahna keeps asking. “Is this normal?”

“We do not yet have a normal,” Dr. Ikeda replies, “but we did expect this, yes.”

“Does he needs more of that stuff?”

“More won’t help him now. He must fight. Help to keep him as calm as possible, so his immune system can work.”

“It’s okay, baby,” says Ahna, stroking his arm. “You’re gonna get through this, ‘cause I’m here.”

Ellie’s looking on with a deep sadness in her eyes. She lays her head against the window.

Clint wants to help her. He wants to help her so bad, but he doesn’t know how. It’s got to be her memories.

“Ellie?” he asks.

She doesn’t react. Kel is quiet, but it looks like he’s praying.

“I don’t know what to say,” says Ellie.

“What?” Clint asks.

“I don’t know how to wish it was different. Because it was all so fucked up. I wish Riley didn’t get bit, so she could be there for me, like that. I wish she was immune instead. I wish we’d had an ounce of hope. I wish I didn’t have to see her after she changed. I wish I didn’t have to kill her.”

“Oh my god, Ellie,” breathes Clint. “I’m so sorry.”

She shakes her head. “I know Riley would have wanted it. She wouldn’t want to be one of those things. She wouldn’t want an innocent life to be taken by her hands. That’s what gave me the strength to do it. She could only go to a better place, from there.

“The only thing I can wish now is for it not to have happened at all, but what fucking good does that do?”

She gets up. “I need to go for a while.”

“Go where?” Clint asks, standing.

“To cry. Stay here.” Her words brook no argument. Clint sits, and watches her walk out of the waiting area, far too much weight on her shoulders.

It gets bad for Terrence, then. He’s grimacing in pain. He asks for more painkillers but they say they can’t give him more safely. They tell him he’s doing a good job. Tears fall from his eyes at one point. Then, finally, he gets a bit of a reprieve.

His brow is still pinched, and he grimaces, but his breath is different. It’s like a runner at the end of a race, breathing hard, but slowly recovering.

A few minutes later, Ellie returns. She just looks tired, but her eyes are red. Clint stands, and she moves in for the hug. He squeezes her, and lets her go. She sits down and looks in the window again.

“He’s doing better than a few minutes ago,” Clint says.

“Yeah.” Ellie sniffs. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“What?”

“It’s over.” There’s a distant understanding in her eyes. A recognition. “He won.”

Terrence is still rocking back and forth slightly. His thumb and middle finger are pressed into his temples. Ahna is rubbing his upper arm and whispering to him. He nods.

Dr. Ikeda is trying to hold it together, but she can barely contain her excitement. She looks over the instruments eagerly. She whispers to Dr. Watanabe, who is much more muted. He whispers back and she nods, regaining some composure.

By the time the sun rises, the atmosphere in the room is almost calm. Dr. Ikeda addresses Terrence.

“How are you feeling?”

“Shitty,” he replies.

“Ah. Some, if not most of that can probably be attributed to the amphotericin.”

“Well, screw amphotericin, then.”

“It’s not fun, from what I hear, but…” She glances at Watanabe. “It’s early, and this is new territory, but from everything we know about cordyceps, the hours of danger have passed.”

“What are you saying?” says Ahna, hope in her eyes.

“The treatment appears to have succeeded.”

Ahna shoots up in her chair. “Did you hear that? T, did you hear that?” She’s breathing fast with excitement. “She’s saying it worked! She’s saying it worked!” She rubs his shoulder excitedly but fails to elicit the same response.

“Yeah,” he grunts, “I heard her.”

Ahna ignores his reticence and is practically squealing. Kel is more reserved. Maybe he’s feeling his brother’s pain. He chuckles, though.

“Guess the last day ain’t come yet.” The corner of Terrence’s mouth turns upward and he clasps his brother’s hand.

Ellie gets up and walks to the door. She leans against the frame with a tired smile on her face. They go on for a while, but eventually Terrence notices her. He regards her.

“So it’s you I’ve got to thank for that, huh?”

“That’s right,” she says. “Sucks, huh?”

He scoffs. “Yeah it fucking does. Can I get this thing out of my arm now, or what?”

“It should be safe now,” says Dr. Ikeda. She sets about removing the IV.

Terrence raises his fist toward Ellie. She walks over and bumps it, wordless. She looks up at Dr. Ikeda. “So what happens now?”

Dr. Ikeda is surprised. “Um. Well, now, I imagine we have a lot of talking to do.”

* * *

Clint drops his pack in the break area, like he does most days. Feeling a lot heavier today, though. He yawns, stretching. He looks down at the break room table. He could probably lay on top of it and go to sleep right now. No dice, though.

He pulls the rifle strap over his shoulders and hangs it over his midsection. He walks out into the Oncology lobby and spots Abby entering from the other side. They lock eyes, and she walks over briskly. She looks annoyed. He braces himself.

“Couldn’t have woken me up?” she asks, a little stiffly.

“Didn’t really get the chance,” he replies. “And you were gone when I got back.”

She looks him up and down. “Was it bad?”

“Not for me. For Terrence, yeah. And Ellie.”

Her brow pinches for a second. “His name’s Terrence?”

Clint nods. “Came in with a Kel and an Ahna. Seem like good people.”

“Where are they now?”

“I think they bunked them upstairs with the Japanese brigade. He survived.”

“I heard. Everyone’s talking about it.” Abby shifts her weight. She inclines her head. “You realize what that means?”

“Yeah. I think so. I know, it’s crazy. The cure, right? Hopefully? If it worked for him?”

“Nothing they have ever tried has worked before. And they tried everything.”

“It’s wild. I think… it hasn’t sunken in yet. I didn’t really sleep last night.”

“Yeah,” she says, looking him up and down again, “I can tell.”

There’s a moment and they both smile. They lean in and the kiss is just the thing Clint needed.

She frowns slightly. “Why was it bad for Ellie?”

“I think it took her back to the night she got bit. It was bad for her. She told me some stuff about it she’d never said before. I probably shouldn’t say…”

“It’s fine. What’s she doing now?”

“Sleeping, probably. Lucky fucker.”

Abby smirks. “I told you what it’s like under Dunford.”

“Yeah, well… Can’t complain.” He looks at her meaningfully.

“Shut up,” she says, laughing. She looks over her shoulder. “Better get to our places.”

“Do we have to?” he asks.

“You know it,” she says over her shoulder as she walks away.

* * *

“Uptown… four?” Clint says apprehensively, glancing at Ellie.

Terrence, Kel and Ahna are sitting on Ellie’s bed, Ellie and Clint on his. Abby and Lev are seated between them on little chairs. Abby makes her chair look tiny.

Terrence regards Clint from across the table. Their advantage is obvious. “Four no trump.”

“Downtown five,” Ellie replies confidently. A confidence that feels pretty stilted to Clint.

“Pass, go ahead,” says Terrence.

“Spades to trump.”

“Classic,” says Kel.

Ellie picks up the kitty and looks through it. She looks at Clint. He makes a helpless gesture, but he looks. “Well you probably don’t need this stuff.”

“Of course.” Ellie puts six cards down, then plays a seven of clubs.

“Mm…” says Terrence pretentiously, stroking his chin. He plays a six.

It’s the evening of the day of Terrence’s successful treatment. Ellie did indeed sleep all day, as Clint expected. Clint’s still exhausted, but he’s decided to wait until the evening to try to stay on his sleep schedule. The outsiders came and found them of their own volition. They complained of having nothing to do. One thing led to another, and Terrence and Kel just finished teaching them Bid Whist. This is their first game, and Clint is pretty sure they’re gonna get creamed. He plays a four.

“You’re gonna go easy on us, right?” asks Ellie.

Terrence looks back as if appalled. “And disrespect you like that?” Kel plays a seven of spades.

“Already?” says Clint.

Terrence shrugs performatively. Kel shakes his head at his brother’s acting, smiling.

“Why the bidding thing?” Abby asks. “Seems like it just makes it more complicated.”

“To the beginner, it makes it complicated,” says Kel. “But it brings a lot more to the game. You’ll see.”

Play proceeds, and the newcomers take the first book. And the second, and the third. Clint and Ellie swing the fourth, but it’s really starting to look like they’re gonna lose five points at the end of the round.

Ahna doesn’t say a lot. She spends a lot of the time with her head resting on Terrence’s shoulder. Now and then she’ll point to a card in his hand. He’ll make a disapproving clicking sound with his tongue, but he generally plays it. One time after this happens she looks at Ellie and rolls her eyes. Ellie smiles.

They do lose the first round, then the game in the third round, going to negative nine. Clint was never much for spades, which Bid Whist is similar to. More of an old person game in Jackson. But it’s catching his interest. Ellie’s too, he keeps looking over to see her frowning in concentration at the table. It’s extremely cute.

Clint swaps out after game one so Abby can play. He likes watching her and Ellie play together. When they’re focused on the game, the last of the tension between them just evaporates. Until they start arguing about the best play, that is.

“He wouldn’t have played that if he had more diamonds,” Ellie insists.

“Oh, he’s got diamonds. Look at his face!” Abby says.

Kel is very much failing to suppress a smile, and Clint is pretty sure it’s not because of his hand.

“How about we put slips on the next game?” Terrence asks them.

“What are slips?” Ellie asks.

“You know,” says Terrence, “trade, or whatever. You guys get food slips? Maybe a nice knife? I can always use a knife.”

“You are not getting any of my knives,” says Ellie.

Terrence’s brows shoot up. “Oh? What’s the problem? ‘Fraid you’d—“

His bravado is cut short when Grayson appears around the curtain. His presence brings silence, as it usually does. He’s carrying his normal gravity, but there’s a secret smile on the corner of his lips. He looks down at the table. He shakes his head. “Where’s shogi?”

Terrence and Kel frown in confusion.

“I heard they have Go boards upstairs as well.”

“Yes!” says Lev abruptly, looking at Ellie.

Grayson smirks. “Ellie, Terrence, would you two join me?”

Ahna sits up straight. Clint looks up expectantly, too.

Grayson shakes his head. “Not this time. Don’t worry, I don’t expect it will be too long.”

Ellie is calm and serious, now. She hands Clint her cards and climbs off the bed. Terrence does the same.

“You’re not gonna lock me up, are you?” Terrence asks.

“Don’t worry,” says Grayon, “you’ll be back with your friends soon enough.”

There’s the briefest of hesitation, but he nods.

* * *

Ellie looks up at Grayson’s back as he leads them through the ward. He’s hiding something, but she can’t tell what kind of something. Good, she hopes. She looks over at Terrence. He’s a bit tense.

“You know,” she says to him. He looks over sharply, “I wasn’t so sure either, for a long time. I’m an outsider here, too.”

He doesn’t say anything. His brow is pinched. He glances around.

“You know Abby?”

He looks over.

“We almost killed each other a couple times, couple years back.”

His frown deepens. He reads her face but he can tell she’s serious. She smirks.

“We’ll be alright. I won’t let them keep you from the others.”

He lets out a breath. “Sounds like a promise.”

They arrive at the same conference room where Ikeda had briefed them on the treatment.

It’s more crowded this time. The doctors are present, as well as all the Firefly and Shiro Hebi captains. Plus a few people Ellie doesn’t recognize. An Indian man with medium length hair and a powerful gaze stands up.

“Kabir!” says Terrence excitedly. He runs over and hugs the man, who chuckles.

“There’s my lost sheep,” says Kabir. “Alright, alright.”

They separate. “Is my moms alright?” Terrence asks.

Kabir nods. “Yes, yes. Except she’s worried sick about you.” He holds Terrence’s shoulders and looks him in the eye. “Leaving without permission?”

Terrence is sheepish. “When it happened, Kel said—“

“Blaming your brother for your actions?”

“No, Kabir, I mean… We were worried if we told you where we were going you wouldn’t let us.”

“You might have been right. But, in hindsight, it seems it’s good that you did. Let me see.”

Terrence is confused for a second, then it clicks. He looks down and shows Kabir his bandaged arm. It still has healing to do, but the bandages are clean. Kabir eyes him. “How was it?

“Pretty lousy, to be honest.”

Kabir chuckles again. “That’s what I heard.” He looks at Grayson, who gestures to the open chairs. Terrence sits next to one of the people flanking Kabir. Ellie sits between Terrence and Dunford.

Grayson sits in the chair at the head of the table, opposite Kabir. He rests his forearms on the wood. “Well, folks, it’s a whole new ballgame, now.”

“When your people arrived in such tumultuous fashion, we expected war, not medicine,” says Kabir, with a sardonic smile.

“Well,” says Grayson, “in a world where just about everyone you don’t know wants you dead or in custody, it was war first, medicine after.”

“You didn’t ask for anything in exchange,” says Kabir, more pointedly. “Is that going to remain the case?”

“It will,” says Grayson. He looks to the doctors. “And it’s not just me saying that. We are in agreement. Any and all curative product that we produce will be distributed without fee.”

“Why is that?” say Kabir, narrowing his eyes slightly. “If anything, it seems like extracting goods and services could only advance your effort.”

“Well,” says Grayson, cocking his head, “that’s not wrong, and we considered that. The reason ultimately is that we don’t want it to seem like there are strings attached, or some kind of trick. If a box, a case, a pallet arrives at a city, it’s for the city. Now, if they’re feeling thankful and want to make some donations, we will be obliged.”

Kabir smiles. “Yes… You have thought this through.” He eyes Terrence briefly. “And when will we be receiving our first pallet?”

Grayson chuckles. “Good question. We’re not really in pallet territory yet. We need to secure some more facilities to begin large scale production.”

“Which facilities, exactly?”

“Let’s table that for now. There’s something the good doctors want to share with us.”

Dr. Ikeda perks up. She confers with Dr. Watanabe briefly. Kabir eyes Grayson but doesn’t press the topic. It strikes Ellie that this is an important diplomatic moment.

“First, let us thank Terrence for allowing us to perform further tests,” says Dr. Ikeda.

“You saved my life,” says Terrence, like her thanks made no sense.

“Well…” Dr. Ikeda struggles with it for a moment. “As a team,” she gestures to Ellie and Grayson, “I suppose we did, yes. Your tests have given us some very special insight, as well.

“Your infection was defeated by your immune system, with the help of our treatment. It lives on, technically, but it is in remission and no longer threatens your body. There was no substantial damage to your brain. Which, in effect, makes your condition the same as Ellie’s.”

Ellie and Terrence exchange an apprehensive look.

Dr. Ikeda is trying to suppress a smile. She leans forward. “Terrence, I’m saying you are now immune to the infection.”

He leans back, considering her. He frowns. “So I if I got bit again…”

“You would not have to fear infection, your immune system would handle it. The same goes for breathing spores.”

“Does that mean—“ Ellie stops herself. She glances at Terrence. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Terrence’s data is as valuable to us now as yours. We are hopeful…” She looks at Watanabe and they have a brief exchange. She nods. “We are hopeful that data from Terrence’s test can be used to improve our treatment further. To be more effective, and effective in more patients.

“And, if this immunity is affected in future patients treated…” She gestures, looking for words. “It can only give us even more options.”

Ellie’s mouth is hanging open. Her mind is racing, but she doesn’t want to give voice to it yet.

“That sounds disturbingly optimistic,” says Kabir. His chin rests on his left fist.

Grayson chuckles. “Kabir, I have to tell you, I get it. That’s me. The pragmatic man. I don’t bet on whims. But this, this really worked. Our friends from across the water made it happen.” He gestures to the doctors.

“It sounds like,” Kabir begins, leaning back and crossing his arms, “you are talking about keeping Terrence here.”

“We would like to,” Grayson affirms. “With his and your permissions, yes. We don’t ask for anything. We have food, and critical amenities. We can protect him. What do you say?”

“I don’t—“ Terrence starts.

“Easy now, Terrence,” says Kabir authoritatively. He’s considering Grayson. “It’s difficult for me to consider accepting that with so little information at my disposal.”

Ellie can feel the tension. Terrence looks uncomfortable, but he stays quiet. Grayson bunches the corner of his lips. “I feel like we’ve given you quite a bit… Still, what is it exactly you’d like to know?”

“About those ‘assets’ you’re looking to secure, for production.”

“Indeed, and that is some potentially sensitive information,” says Grayson. He taps the table with his fingers. “I feel like this is the point in the conversation where your side makes an offer to mine, to show your willingness to work with us.”

“Our willingness?” Kabir asks. He leans back. “You know, the day you arrived, your soldiers shot three of my people.”

“Regrettable,” says Grayson, “but we were defending our lives and purpose. The same purpose that saved Terrence’s life.”

“Mm,” replies Kabir. “You are not popular back home, you should know.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed I was.”

“Would you like to see it?”

Grayson frowns. “How do you mean?”

“Would you like to tour our settlement?”

“This is your…” Grayson considers.

Dr. Ikeda has been quietly translating the whole time to Dr. Watanabe. At this point, his brows shoot up. He says something, in objecting tones, looking at Grayson.

Eyes move to him and Dr. Ikeda freezes for a second. “Absolutely not,” she translates.

Watanabe speaks again, pointedly.

“It should be me, if anything,” Dr. Ikeda says for him.

Grayson takes his elbow off the table. He’s incredulous. “Are you kidding me? You’re worth ten of me, Doctor. Ain’t no way.”

“Send me,” says Dunford. Grayson looks at him.

“Me, too,” says Townes. Her bronze hair is tied up in a bun today.

Watanabe speaks, he looks to his right at one of the Japanese captains, and finishes looking at Grayson firmly. “Ichiro as well,” translates Ikeda. “These are my terms.”

Ichiro sits straight with a stoic expression. He nods sharply at Grayson.

Grayson looks like he wants to scowl. He doesn’t like this at all. His cheek pinches. “How does that sound to you, Kabir?”

Kabir eyes them, considering. “This is acceptable. You will be permitted a small escort. That being established, will you share with us what we were talking about?”

“On their return, yes,” says Grayson.

“Then let us depart,” says Kabir.

Grayson is surprised. “Oh? Well…” He cocks an eyebrow. “Alright, well we’ll need a few minutes to prepare.”

“Certainly.”

“And Terrence will stay for now.”

Kabir tenses.

“We’re alright here,” says Terrence quietly, as if only for Kabir. “We were playing cards in the dorms just now.”

Kabir looks like has more he wants to say to Terrence but he bites his tongue. “That’s acceptable,” he says to Grayson.

“Let’s get to it, then,” says Grayson. “I need to see to my men, then I will see you off personally.”

Grayson rises and everyone else follows. There’s a lot of hand-shaking. When Kabir shakes Ellie’s hand, it’s firm and warm. He had given her good vibes when she first saw him, but she hadn’t expected the tension that followed. It made sense, though. If Kabir took the captains hostage, he would have a lot of leverage against the Fireflies.

They file out into the hall. Kabir and his people are walking down the hall flanked by Firefly guards. Out of the corner of her eye, Ellie sees Grayson trying to get her attention but she pretends not to notice and follows the outsiders. Grayson retracts his hand, watching her.

Ellie catches up with them when they’re about to turn a corner. “Kabir?”

He turns, surprised.

“Can I talk to Terrence?”

He considers her. “You can talk to both of us.” He looks at the guards. “Do you mind?”

Hensley gestures to a door near them.

It leads into an office with window overlooking the city below them. Kabir enters first, followed by Terrence and Ellie. Ellie closes the door. Kabir puts his hands on his hips. “Well?” he asks.

She really wants to talk to Terrence, but now it looks like Kabir needs to be there as well.

“She said you’re immune,” she starts.

Terrence frowns. “Yeah. I mean… that’s good, right? Like,” he looks down at his arm. “It’s a relief. It’s not like I’m immune to bullets or anything, but I’ll take it. Why does that matter?”

“Until today, until that very moment, as far as I knew, I was the only immune person on the planet.”

Kabir nods.

“I came here willingly. I’m staying here willingly. But I also haven’t been allowed to leave.”

Kabir frowns.

“Please, please just listen. Grayson is a good man. He’s doing the impossible here, you have to recognize that. The Fireflies have never been about power. They’ve always been after the cure, they might be the last people in North America looking for one. And they found it. You heard him, he say they’re going to give it away for free—“

“He said that,” says Kabir.

“I know you don’t know him, and you don’t know me. I just… I’m not an officer, I’m not here to make you offers, but…” Ellie shifts her feet. She’s nervous. She’s not making a good case. She makes a decision.

She walks up to Kabir, close. He takes his hands off his hips. She clasps her hands in front of him, pleading. “Please. Please just… things are good here. There’s food. There’s water. It’s safe. I don’t mind it, but…” She can feel tears pushing at her eyes. She holds them back and takes a breath.

“Six months ago I left my home in Wyoming and everyone I knew to cross the country to find the Fireflies. It was hard. There was blood. We almost died. But we made it. We made it and they made the cure and that was all I wanted. That was all I wanted. Now I just—“ She has to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from crying. She meets Kabir’s gaze. “Now I just want to be home.”

The person behind the commander is visible again. He speaks softly. “What are you asking?”

“If you let Terrence stay, they might let me go.”

His eyes look heavy, all of the sudden. “You sound like a prisoner begging for rescue,” he points out.

“I know I do. I’m telling you, I’m here willingly, but…” She struggles with it. “Your people are miles away. Mine are a thousand miles away. I want to see them again. I just want to see them again.” At that point she can’t help it and a tear slips. “I wasn’t sure I ever would…”

Terrence eyes her warily. She can’t tell if it’s her proposition or her emotions. Kabir is solemn and pensive.

“On our return,” he says eventually, “you will have our answer.”

Kabir moves around her and opens the door. Terrence favors her with a long look, but in the end, he follows in silence.


	23. New Deal

Abby rubs her thumb against her palm. She’s frowning, she can feel it. A million years ago, her mom had told her if she frowned too much, she was going to get wrinkles. She tries to relax, letting out a long sigh.

She’s pacing along Obstetrics, which is an area that is generally empty. She needed some time to think.

After Ellie came back from that meeting, she was mentally preoccupied. She told them what happened, that they’re more or less in talks with the Free Faction, looking for a truce, and it almost sounds like cooperation, maybe. But fighting could break out at any point.

Abby flexes her arm. If there’s to be fighting, they’ll need her here.

She reaches the end of the hallway, stops, turns, and begins pacing back up it.

The Fireflies are probably better armed, and well manned, especially with the help of the Japanese brigade, but they don’t know how big the Free Faction or the Great Staters actually are. She’d heard Grayson talking to Townes about infiltrating them. Sending in people to ‘join’ their cause. Espionage, essentially. Extremely dangerous. At that point it sounds like you’re talking about war. She flexes her arm again.

This treatment is a huge breakthrough. It was supposed to be the ultimate. Victory, for the Fireflies and for mankind. But it’s not going to be that simple, is it? Now that they have a formula, they need facilities, namely a medical supply distribution complex. She’d seen the maps. There’s one to the East that’s too convenient to ignore. One problem, if it’s not under immediate Free Faction control, they’d still have to go around them to get to it. They won’t be able to ignore them.

She reaches the end of the hall again and turns around.

But fighting… Abby hasn’t been in a warzone since Seattle. The term wasn’t broadly and officially used there, but that’s pretty much what it was. Ambushes, skirmishes. Constant fear. It was the most blood Abby has seen in her life, and she has little interest in returning to it.

And a lot less interest in seeing Lev exposed to it. She rubs her jaw worriedly. She hasn’t talked to Grayson. She keeps telling herself she’s not scared to, it’s just not the right time. But she is. He’s not going to see it the same way as her. Lev is not his personal responsibility.

“Will you knock that off?”

Abby stops, tensing up. She looks around. In one of the rooms along the hall, she sees the silhouette of a Firefly looking out the windows to the city below. After a second, she recognizes Hansen. She lets out a breath, walking into the room.

“Were you gonna tell me you were here at any point?” she asks.

“I wasn’t hiding. You were making me nervous with all that stomping around.”

“I was thinking.”

“Must have a lot to think about.”

“I do.” She pulls up next to him and clasps her hands behind her back.

The windows are dirty, but it’s a gorgeous, sunny day outside. It’s actually a little too warm by the window. A group of pigeons fly by. A patchwork of one story buildings in a bed of tree foliage spreads out into the distance, interspersed by occasional massive trees that shoot way above the canopy. It’s like a forest and a city at the same time. On their way into the city, they had passed a giant old water tower that deemed Sacramento the ‘City of Trees.’ No wonder.

“Care to share?” Hansen asks.

She looks over. Hansen is one of very few Fireflies she remembers from the old days. Saint Mary’s, and before. Unlike her, he never stopped looking for the light, apparently. His moppy brown teenage hair is close cropped these days, and his scraggly brown beard is well kempt. It’s not half bad. He’s got a solemn look on his face. Eyes just slightly pinched, subtly suggesting the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Such bullshit.

“Mary mad at you again?”

He keeps up the act for another three seconds then lets out a breath.

“She was supposed to meet me here a half hour ago.”

“A half hour? And you’re still here? That’s desperate, man.”

“You know, I asked if _you_ wanted to share.”

Abby chuckles, but the humor dries up again. She squeezes her wrist behind her back.

“Could be more fighting soon. If things don’t go well with the Free Faction.”

He glances her way. She’s closer with command than most. “Excited?”

“Not at all.”

“It’s that kid, isn’t it?”

“’That kid’ is your fellow soldier, you know.”

“Funny, you don’t seem to think so.”

Abby frowns. She doesn’t like it when people talk about Lev like that. “Well for your sake, and everyone’s, you better hope things go well at this stage.”

“Abby,” he says in softer tones, “you know Grayson’s not just gonna put Lev on the front lines or anything.”

She cocks her head. “Not unless he has to.”

“And I don’t think you’re scared of a fight.”

“Not scared enough to run, no.”

He considers her. “Is there something else bothering you?”

She sees movement below. A pack of dogs is wandering the street, looking for food, probably.

“I’m thinking about leaving the Fireflies,” she says suddenly.

Hansen perks up. He hadn’t expected that, from the look on his face. “Whoa…” He raises his eyebrows. “That’s… not what I expected to hear.”

“There’s a place back East—“

“But you’re like Captain America around here,” he says, piecing it out. “Your dad was…”

She looks his way. People know not to talk lightly about her dad.

“I’m just saying, I thought you were a lifer.”

“My dad was a doctor. He was never a commander. His mission was always the cure. He—“ She twists her mouth. “His chance got taken away, but I was able to see it through. Because after he was gone, that was the best and right thing for me to do.”

“So now you’re done?” He’s not trying to talk her out of it. He legitimately wants to know.

“Don’t necessarily need to be,” says Abby. She keeps thinking about her dad. She dreamed about him last night. He was in his scrubs, as she often saw him. He was surprised when she walked in, then he broke out in his invincible smile.

He had seemed so happy for her.

“But I can be, because of Lev,” she finishes.

“Huh,” says Hansen. He adopts an insincere, cavalier certainty. “But he’ll never let you go.”

Abby’s cheek pinches. “Somewhat worried about that.”

“I think that’s great.”

She turns and looks at him. He’s smiling. “What?” she replies.

“So you get, like, a happily-ever-after?” He chuckles. “I think that’s great.”

“You don’t think it’s unfair?”

He laughs. “I mean, obviously. It’s bullshit. And if it were anyone else, I’d smack them upside the head.”

“Don’t care to try?”

He grins. “But who’s worked harder than you around here?” He shifts his weight, thinking. “How’s this place out East?”

“Safe, apparently—do you really mean that?” she asks pointedly.

He looks her up and down. “I do.”

Abby lets out a breath. She decides to let it out. “I’m worried people are going to see me as a traitor.”

“Nah,” Hansen replies, “’cause if they start talking like that, I’ll kick their ass.”

Abby smiles. He just might.

“I want something good, though.”

“Huh?” she replies.

“For your parting gift. I wanna look through your stuff.”

“Through my stuff? Fat chance!”

“You still have that bottle of brandy?”

She shakes her head, looking forward, reticent. “Keep dreaming, that shit is aged thirty years.”

“Beautiful.”

“You’re not getting it.”

“That’ll butter Mary right up.”

Abby smiles. Hansen can be such a jackass.

And a damn good friend, she decides.

* * *

When Abby gets back to the ward, Lev is not at their beds. Predictably, she finds him with Clint and Ellie.

Terrence and the others are nowhere to be seen, but Ellie’s sitting on her bed next to Lev, and Clint is with her. Ellie’s picking at her fingernails again. She’s sharing. She can practically see the support flowing from Lev into Ellie. Clint’s listening patiently, too. When Abby gets close, Ellie looks up.

Abby didn’t mean to interrupt. She feels awkward, but Ellie seems to expect her to say something. “Any more news?” she asks.

Ellie just shakes her head. Lev looks up at Abby, eyes full of meaning that Abby can’t quite parse. She feels out of place, suddenly. Should she go?

Clint pats the bed next to him. _God, does he realize how cheesy he is?_ Ignoring that, Abby sits down, grateful to be invited.

“Where are the others?” she asks.

Ellie sniffs. “Upstairs, I think. I think they have a lot to talk about after the meeting.”

“They came for emergency medicine,” says Clint, “now they’re in for something else.”

“Should we get them?” says Abby. The others look up curiously. “I mean, they’re still welcome here, maybe we should make them feel like it. Dunford said it was good that we were socializing with them.”

“Socializing?” Ellie asks sardonically.

Abby can feel herself blushing. “Whatever, you know what I meant.”

“That’s a good idea,” says Ellie. “You guys should go ‘socialize’ with them. I need to do something, though. I’ll catch up with you.” And with that, she gets up and walks in the direction of command.

Abby looks after her curiously.

“Come on,” says Lev, hopping off the bed with his usual energy. “I’m sure they’re upstairs.”

They were. There’s a small crowd in the corner of the Japanese ward. When they approach, Abby sees Terrence staring down at a Go board. Kel is playing Aoki. He’s frowning in deep concentration.

“Now it’s Go?” Abby asks when she gets near Terrence.

He looks up, surprised for a second. Then he rolls his eyes. “Kel is a sucker for this stuff. He’d probably play Chess if you asked him.”

“Oh, really?” Clint asks.

Kel looks up at Clint over his glasses. “Careful what you wish for.” He picks up a smooth black stone and places it at one of the countless intersections on the board. Aoki thinks for a few seconds, then places a white piece. Kel frowns deeply.

“You said you’re a beginner too, right?” he asks Aoki.

Aoki looks surprised for a second. He looks up at Fujita, who chuckles. He speaks to Aoki in Japanese. Aoki smiles and nods many times at Kel.

“Hmm…” says Kel.

“Is this all you guys do around here?” asks Ahna. She’s leaning against the bed near Terrence, looking bored.

“Prefer clearing infected?” Abby asks.

“You know, I might.”

Abby doesn’t know Go, but Fujita starts explaining the rules to her as they play. It starts to become more interesting, actually. Aoki succeeds in securing a whole corner of the board by placing a structure with eyes, making the group uncapturable. She, Clint, and Terrence join in the subgroups talking in low tones about the game, so the players won’t overhear.

It’s funny, since they’re just beginners. They probably wouldn’t get half the attention they are if they weren’t the talk of the town. Lev chit chats with Ahna while the time goes by.

It helps take Abby’s mind of things, but it doesn’t stop her from zoning out every few minutes. Wondering when the party that left earlier is gonna get back. If they’re gonna get back. She shifts her feet. She doesn’t like that Dunford is with them. Ellie said she felt like she could trust Kabir at first.

At first…

Terrence is looking pretty unhappy. He sighs. “And how do I end this thing?” he asks Fujita.

“I’m sorry?” Fujita replies.

“Well, I don’t have a king to tip over.”

“Ah…” Fujita scratches his head, still confused.

“I’m asking how to concede, fool.”

“Oh,” he says, laughing. “If you are in a point deficit, and you pass, your opponent will pass as well, and the game will end.”

“Well, go on, then,” he gestures to Aoki.

Aoki, seeming to understand, offers multiple short bows, then his hand. Clearly reluctant, Kel takes it.

“Let me get in on one,” says Terrence.

Kel gives him a look. “Man, what are you talking about? You said this game looks ridiculous.”

“That was before.”

Aoki, looks between them, stands and offers the seat to Terrence, who takes it. Takeuchi protests in Japanese.

“Go get Nakayama’s board, then,” says Fujita.

Takeuchi further protests.

“Yes, I’m sure you do want everyone to watch you play.”

The fated game never commences, though, because they hear a pair of boots approaching smartly. When Abby sees it’s Townes, relief floods through her.

She eyes the Go board and smirks. “Very nice. Terrence, we need you down in the conference room.”

Serious again, Terrence just nods and stands up.

“Can we come?” asks Ahna.

“Yes. You too, Andersen.”

Abby blinks. Grayson wants her present? She nods.

* * *

When they get to the conference room, there’s an audible buzz. Abby enters behind Kel to see all the captains present, and a good deal more unfamiliar faces. It’s standing room for most of them. Grayson is conferring quietly with Dunford by the window. She keeps her distance for now. She notices Ellie, looking at her, seated at the middle of the conference table. Terrence sits next to her and the others stand behind him. Ellie’s expression is unreadable. Abby just nods.

Dunford says something to Grayson and Grayson nods. He turns and walks to his seat at one end of the conference table, opposite a tall, handsome Indian man who must be Kabir, who is already seated.

“Shall we begin?” Grayson asks him over the chatter. Kabir nods. “Alright, everyone. Attention. Attention, folks.”

The chatter in the room dies down, until it’s very quiet. Grayson sits.

“My men have briefed me on their visit. You gave them quite the tour.”

“I figured it was only fair,” Kabir replies, “since you shared so much of your holdings with us.”

“If it had been at all possible, we were interested in taking the Med Center without a shot being fired.”

“Reasonable,” says Kabir. “The only problem is that these buildings reside in Free Faction territory, which we have yet to discuss.”

“I hear that. However, I also understand that if I were to ask the leader of the Great Staters, I would be told something quite similar.”

“Well,” says Kabir, “Mable has a… confused understanding of her sphere of influence.”

“I like to think my understanding of our influence is clearer, then. We are unwilling to cede any of the facilities in this complex to your control, or Mable’s. I would also guess, though, that these buildings haven’t held much value to you, prior to us inhabiting them.”

“Well, medical supplies and facilities are always valuable.”

“True, but there must be hospitals more conveniently located for you.”

“None with this strategic value or vantage of a critical area.”

Grayson nods. “Perhaps not. Nonetheless, these facilities are ours now.” Grayson leans forward, resting his forearms on the table and clasping his hands. “That being said, we have no interest in expanding our holdings at all, unless it is to further our goal of distributing the cure, or to provide sustenance or protection to my people. And we are willing to negotiate.”

“Indeed,” says Kabir. He taps the table with his fingers. “I believe we had a deal.”

“You want to know what we’re looking at next?”

“That is correct.”

Grayson nods. “We have interest in the Davidson Medical Supply complex, in south Carmichael.”

Kabir raises his head. “By the river.”

“Near there, yes.”

Kabir frowns. “You should know, the river is of particular strategic value in this region. It separates us from the South side.”

“I understand there are more factions down there?”

Kabir considers him. “You do seem to possess intelligence on this area, but I would not agree with that. No real factions down there, just chaos. Which is why control points along the river are key.”

Grayson nods. He looks over at Watanabe.

Ikeda has been quietly translating. Watanabe says something to her, returning his gaze to Grayson.

“Consider option C,” says Ikeda.

Grayson nods, and turns to Kabir. “How would you feel about it if your people shared access to the facility?”

Kabir’s brow pinches. “Full access? To come and go?”

Grayson gestures with his palm upward. “Inasmuch as it is reasonable, yes.”

“I would be more comfortable with oversight of the facility.”

Grayson frowns. “Well, that’s asking a bit more.”

“The complex you are talking about falls under our purview.”

Grayson pinches the corner of his mouth. “Would you prefer to run it entirely, then?”

Now Kabir frowns. “What would we get out of that?”

“Priority access to the cure, namely.”

“Indeed, and what would you get out of it?”

“Half of what you produce.”

“And what are you providing to deserve that?”

Suddenly, Dr. Watanabe starts speaking directly to Kabir, to the man’s surprise. When he finishes, Dr. Ikeda translates.

“Science. We cannot proceed without you, and you cannot proceed without us.”

“You are familiar with the Fireflies, right?” Grayson asks Kabir.

“Of course,” Kabir responds. “Hard not to be, having lived through the outbreak.”

“We never changed. Not really. We fought FEDRA, we won, and lost. Took a lot of losses. But we’ve always been about the cure. And now it’s here. And now, the next step is distribution. In the hopes that one day, this blasted country can reconstruct itself. Hell,” he says, gesturing to their Japanese allies on the window side of the conference table, “so the whole world can rebuild.

“What we want from you right now is half. We can start with that. And with your half, I imagine you can accomplish quite a lot. The only other thing we ask, is to avoid all-out war with the Great Staters or any other faction.”

“War,” says Kabir, “is something we would like to avoid as well.”

“Do we have a deal?” Grayson asks.

Kabir thinks for a few moments. He glances at Ellie, who like everyone else in the room, has been listening with rapt attention. Her expression softens in surprise.

Kabir looks back at Grayson. “I have one more question for you. Then I will answer.”

Grayson is casual but Abby can tell he’s tense. He’s inches away from success. “Alright, then.”

“Are you going to let Ellie leave?” Kabir asks.

Grayson’s brow pinches for an instant. “Come again?”

“If I allow Terrence to remain here with you, are you going to let Ellie return to Wyoming?”

Clearly taken aback, Grayson looks a question at Ellie. _Did she cut some kind of deal with Kabir?_ But she’s clearly surprised, too. She shakes her head.

Grayson regards Kabir, but the Free Faction leader doesn’t elaborate. He waits for Grayson’s response.

Grayson snorts. “Well, so plainly put, under the conditions we’ve established…” He rests his forearms on the table. “Yes.”

“Then we have a deal.”

There’s a susurrus in the room as this provokes a lot of whispered side conversations.

Abby’s gut is tense, but she also feels an excitement welling in her chest. This is good. They have a standing deal. It makes sense now, why Kabir would care. If they let Ellie go, then they’d let Terrence go too, under the right circumstances. It says a lot about Grayson’s leadership, and intent.

And he said yes. He just said yes, Ellie could go. That just leaves…

Abby’s stomach twists. She shouldn’t have waited this long. She needs to talk to Grayson. Shit.

Talk continues between the leaders in spite of the background noise. They start assigning their people to talk about the various aspects of what’s to come, as well as trade, border area protocols, and more. In pairs and small groups, people start leaving the room to hammer out a plan elsewhere.

“And with that,” says Grayson to Kabir amidst a half dozen other conversations, “I’ll invite you to my office.”

“Can I bring Mangala?” He gestures to a woman next to him a few years younger looking.

“Certainly. Ellie, Andersen,” Grayson addresses them. Surprised, Abby stands up straight. “Come along.”

Ellie looks surprised too, but they do so. They leave the remaining chatter of the conference room to follow Grayson back to his office in silence, walking between him and the Free Faction leaders.

* * *

Grayson’s office is empty when they arrive. He walks over to the window and opens the blinds, letting the late afternoon light in. He turns to Abby and Ellie.

“I’ll allow our guests to sit, if you don’t mind.”

Abby and Ellie move aside and Kabir and Mangala take the two chairs in front of the desk.

“What is the nature of this invitation, exactly?” Kabir asks.

“Celebration, first of all,” Grayson says, cracking a little smile. “You might say this is historic. And what’s more, there are final details to shore up. Would it be appropriate for me to offer?” Grayson is holding a bottle of whiskey.

“It would,” Kabir smiles, “and my sister will certainly not refuse.”

“Please,” she protests with the ease of lifelong acquaintance. She accepts the mismatched glass of whiskey, though.

Abby and Ellie take theirs as well. Abby’s hands are almost shaking. She needs to talk to Grayson alone.

“To a new era,” says Grayson. He holds his glass aloft.

It’s quite a toast, but Kabir smiles, holding his aloft as well. “To a new era.”

Everyone takes a sip. Ellie actually shoots hers. When she realizes no one else did, she freezes up. Grayson doesn’t seem to notice but Abby has to resist laughing.

Grayson considers his glass. “Sorry, I’ve given away my best stuff to the brigade. Ketchison is trying to recreate Jack Daniel’s. He’s got a ways to go.”

Kabir chuckles. “Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

“Well,” says Grayson. “First thing’s first. Ellie, looks like you’re leaving us.”

Abby’s stomach turns, this is the moment, she’s going to have to speak up. It’ll be out of nowhere, but—

“Never thought those words would make me so happy,” Ellie says, smirking. “Although it was alright around here. Food could use some improvement.”

“You’re telling me. Although maybe I misspoke, ‘cause really you’re getting kicked out.”

“What?” Ellie asks.

He gestures to Kabir. “We have a deal. And you’re part of it. That means you’ve got to go.”

“Um, oh…” Ellie says. “Like when?”

“Like tomorrow, preferably.”

Ellie’s eyes widen. Abby can’t wait any longer. She steels herself. “Sir?”

Grayson regards her. He looks her up and down. “Yes, soldier?”

“I meant to bring this up beforehand.” Abby hesitates. _What does that matter?_ “I’ve spoken with Ellie, and…” Her heart is pounding.

“And?”

“And she agreed to bring Lev and I back to Jackson. If you’ll allow it.”

The moment hangs. Grayson’s face is neutral. He turns to Ellie. “Ellie and I have spoken, as well. Earlier today, in fact. I was curious what she had spoken to our new friend Kabir about. She told me she was interested in going home. Now that she’s not the only immune person on the block. I told her I’d give that some thought. Then she had the _audacity_ ,” he emphasizes with inauthentic gravity, “to suggest that I owed her something.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Ellie’s lips.

“A concession I allowed,” Grayson continues. “Her one request?” He turns to Abby. “That I allow you and Lev to join them on the road.”

Abby’s taken aback. Ellie had done that? She looks over at the slight girl. Her face reveals nothing but that ghost of a smile.

“And I said yes,” Grayson says. “So there’s no need to keep shaking like a leaf.”

 _Shaking like a leaf?_ Shit, she’s not really that obvious, is she?

The Free Faction leaders chuckle.

“Are you sure you didn’t cut a deal with Ellie?” Grayson asks Kabir.

The man shakes his head. “No deal.”

“We discussed it back home,” says Mangala. “It was our best way of knowing we could trust you with Terrence.”

“And more broadly someday, I hope,” says Grayson. He raises his glass again, taking a sip. “Andersen, you know that that means, right?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I’ve got some people to talk to.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Am I dismissed, sir?”

“You both are. But first,” Grayson rises, walking over to Ellie. He evaluates her. He wags a finger at chest level. “You I trust. And you,” he walks over to Abby. He squints at her in pretend scrutiny. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

Abby’s not sure how to respond. “Lev will be with me.”

Grayson chuckles. “That’s right, that’s right, I know you will.” He squeezes her arm. “Be sorry to see you go, Andersen. I’ll see you off in the morning.”

“Thank you, sir.” Abby’s more moved than she wants to admit. She holds it in.

“Dismissed.”

Out in the hallway, suddenly released to the quiet, Abby turns on Ellie as soon as the door is closed. “You couldn’t have told me you talked to him?”

Ellie’s taken aback. “I didn’t think it would be that big a deal.”

“Not that big a—“ Abby stops herself and turns, hands on hips. “Man, you’re no kind of soldier, are you?”

“Damn straight.”

Abby scoffs. Ellie can be so aggravating. “Is it gonna be like this all the way to Jackson?”

Ellie smiles big at Abby, for maybe the first time. “If you’re lucky.”

* * *

_Fire’s up. Clint’s off getting wood. We’re back in the wide open valley, but there’s a little copse of trees by a stream, good for setting up camp. Abby’s making some kind of dubious soup. Lev’s writing in his journal, like me. Very cute. It’s our first night._

_Grayson saw us off like he said he would. It was a little crowd down at the ground floor lobby. Kabir was there, as well as Terrence and the others._

_Grayson gave us enough of the cure to treat two of us, if needed. He said it wouldn’t last the same on the road, to keep it out of direct sunlight. He told me to take the safest route possible. He said he might visit Jackson someday, and he’ll be expecting our hospitality. I promised we would be there to receive him._

_The doctors were there, too. Watanabe told me that because of me, humanity might have a chance to change course. To stop spiraling into hell, and begin climbing toward heaven again. I didn’t know what to say. It was really humbling._

_Dr. Ikeda gave me a smile that was kind of motherly, kind of conspiratorial. She said we’ve always needed more women in history books, which was also humbling. She gave me a hug. I know I was blushing. I think I was starting to crush on her._

_I told Terrence he could trust Grayson, Watanabe and Ikeda. Montes is a dick though. He laughed. He told me those cerebrospinal extractions suck, and I said I know. Then he thanked me for putting up with it. For coming to the Fireflies and everything. For his sake, and Ahna’s and Kel’s. I could see in his eyes, how he meant it. It surprised me. I got in my feelings a little._

_I thought he’d go for another fist bump but he pulled me into a hug. He said it’s been a while, but he remembers what it’s like out there. He said to keep low, and my pistol close. I told him that’s one thing he doesn’t have to worry about._

_Ahna was teary, but she held it together. She says I don’t know what it means to her. I told her ‘do_ not _make me cry right now.’ She laughed. Kel told me I’m clever. ‘Make use of it out there.’_

_Kabir offered to take us through Free Faction territory, to their borders to the East. He went over maps with us, and told us how to get out of the area without trouble. He gave us extra ammo, and his blessing. I was thankful. I think he and Grayson are going to do good things together._

_We followed Kabir’s directions and we’re in open country again. As long as we’re careful, it should be smooth sailing to Jackson._

_Know what? Clint might have been right. I was determined to go alone, but in hindsight, it was nice having Clint out here. And now, it feels even better having Abby and Lev. I trust each of them to hold their own in a fight. Especially Abby, not that I’ll ever admit it to her._

_[Sketch of Lev writing in a notebook, frowning in concentration.]_

_You can’t not like this kid. I know Abby feels responsible for him. It makes me think of Clint, a little._

_I’m thinking about Bev… I do that sometimes, after what Clint told me._

_I think about how she died, too. So awful. Infected mauling her. Clint had a nightmare one time, in Nevada. I was awake, not unusual. I asked him about it. He didn’t say a lot, but I could tell he was grateful I was awake._

_He told me something he hadn’t told me the first time, about when Bev died. He said she was smiling. She was smiling at him, while she was bleeding out. He said he’d always wondered why._

_[Drawing of a young woman surveying the horizon, brow furrowed, looking older than her years.]_

_I think it’s because she knew she had done everything she could, to protect him._

_I’m not our leader._

_So why do I feel so much weight on my shoulders?_


	24. As Long as You Can Bear It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer one. We're getting close to the end. The next chapter should go up relatively quickly, it's mostly written.
> 
> Thanks for staying with me.

Clint looks down on Burley in the distance with his hands on his hips. He doesn't like it, obviously. He looks at Abby next to him.

"What do you think?"

"We go around," she replies.

He cocks his head. "You know we need those supplies."

"We'll get lucky out here eventually."

"You said that a week ago."

They're standing on a foothill South of Idaho's southern valley. It's mostly reclaimed farmland, the fences and roads still visible decades after their abandonment. There are a few cities dotted along the Snake River—the same one from home, in Jackson—and Burley is the biggest near them.

"See that white building?" says Clint. "I'm pretty sure that's a hospital."

"It is," says Abby.

Ellie and Lev are arguing behind them.

"Come on," says Ellie, "these are blackberries. I know they're your favorite."

"Salt meat is worth more than berries any day of the week," says Lev.

"You don't even like salt meat."

"It's not that I don't like it. I don't prefer it. My muscles need protein!"

"You think these bad boys don't?"

Lev laughs against his will. "We can find more berries any time!"

"But we don't necessarily, do we?"

Abby's arms are crossed. "We go in there, we know there's a risk. We stay away and we just have to keep things clean."

They're out of alcohol. Clean out. Which is fine, until someone gets cut or shot or something. They only have antibiotics to treat one person. They'd had some accidents on the way, and it whittled away at the little they'd brought. Ellie keeps cursing herself for not thinking to bring more.

They run out completely, and the next little accident could end up being fatal. They need med supplies. It's not smart to go on without them, especially through the mountains, where there may be none close at hand when disaster strikes.

"No one can guarantee 'keeping things clean,'" Clint points out.

Abby sighs, brow wrinkling.

Turns out Abby is extremely pragmatic on the road. A few weeks ago, at the first sign that they might be running low on food, Abby had immediately suggested rationing. She approaches every building like it's teeming with hungry infected. She rarely relaxes. Clint can see the change, when they're far enough out in the country with a good campsite. She'll kick back on her bag and just lay there all evening, apparently enjoying it.

Lev isn't carefree, but he definitely worries less than Abby. He follows her directions to the letter. She obviously taught him how to survive in the wider world.

Ellie slides back and forth. She can go frosty pretty quick, and stay that way. But she's often the first to start cracking jokes once they're out of the tense situation.

Which, fortunately, they've had few of. They've dealt with their share of infected during necessary supply runs, but no bandits yet. Up until this point, they've plotted a very careful route. They'd had the liberty to. They'd been lucky.

But their luck is running low.

"Gonna have to bring in the tiebreaker, I think," says Clint.

Abby's frown deepens, but she nods.

"Fine, I'll double up." Clint turns to see Ellie pull another package of berries out of her pack.

"You were holding out on me?!" Lev exclaims.

"It's called bartering, dude."

"That's terrible," says Lev, but he hands over the salted meat without further protest.

Moments later Ellie is tearing pieces off with her teeth, chewing happily. She walks over to Abby and Clint. She looks between them.

Clint gestures toward Burley down below. "Yay or nay?"

Just like that, the humor is gone from Ellie's face. Expressionless, she considers the city. She looks at Abby. "It's gonna have to be a yay."

Abby's not happy, but she accepts it, unfolding her arms. "Let's make it a night run, then."

 _Ugh._ That means no sleep for quite a while. And they'd made plenty of distance that day.

"You got it," says Ellie. She starts stepping down the steep dirt trail they're on toward the valley floor. Clint follows.

"How come you guys never ask me what I think?" Lev asks.

Abby regards him, a bit of humor touching her features. "Because, you're always too busy birdwatching."

Lev protests while Clint jogs down the trail, catching up with Ellie.

"Are you trying to teach Lev a lesson?" Clint asks her. "Or are you just a stinker?"

She looks his way with a little smile that reveals nothing.

"Can I get a bite?"

"Dream on."

"But my poor muscles!"

"Hunt us up some game, then."

"Supplies first." Clint looks down at his feet. Trail's steep enough that you have to be careful as you sidle down. "Maybe we can find some coffee…"

Ellie rolls her eyes. "You know what? I'm not surprised Abby likes it, too. You two are a match made in heaven."

"It's called taste."

"Well, you're gonna lose your sense of taste, drinking that sludge."

Clint laughs. "How about that river?"

She looks a question at him. He gestures to the Snake River.

"Look familiar?"

She gazes at it soberly, for a long moment. "We're not home yet."

Clint frowns a little. "Nope. Almost, though. Thought you'd be more excited."

"I'll be 'excited' when I'm eating a steak dinner at Arnold's."

"Mm, I'll treat to that. Oh! Maybe Jordan will treat! He told me he'd thank us when we got back to Jackson…" Clint's rubbing his chin. It's kind of an exciting thought. "Still not 100% what he's thankful for…"

"You think they made it?" Ellie asks him. It takes him by surprise. She looks at him. "All of them?"

Clint hadn't suspected such a question. His cheek pinches. "I like to think so."

"But do you, though?" She's not going to let up. "Really?"

Sometimes, Ellie is the sunniest person he knows. A fountain of courage and curiosity. And sometimes… It's like the world is a dark, terrible place, and she tries to make Clint admit it. She's doing it right now. He sets his jaw.

"It's possible something happened. One of them gets sick. Or Starbeam. Things go sideways with bandits or infected. But they made it from Seattle to Portland. And I tend to think Portland was a sharp lesson."

"Meaning what?"

"My heart is with them. I choose to believe they made it."

Squinting in the sunlight, Ellie gazes down over the valley. "But maybe not all of them?" she asks him.

He takes a breath and exhales. "Maybe not."

She doesn't say anything for a while and he hopes that the feeling has passed. The land around them is rocky and pretty dry, with scrubby bushes scattered about. The sun is a lot warmer than Clint would ask for. It's high Summer. He takes a swig from his canteen.

"At what point do you think it stops being worth it?" she asks suddenly.

"What stops being worth it?"

"Being the survivor."

Clint's stomach twists. He knows Ellie is still carrying a lot. He can't help her, can't take the pain away. She has periods where she seems really good, and other times… She holds a lot in. He can never be sure what she's feeling. He just does his best to show up when it seems like he needs to.

"I imagine…" He trails off. It's not easy for him, either, because he doesn't have to imagine. Bev. His mom. Even Steve and Jenna. Jason, in Grand Junction… Clara.

"I imagine it gets harder every time, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth it. It never has to not be worth it anymore."

He looks and she's eyeing him. He can't read her.

"If you think there's any meaning in life," he says, "then life must always be worth living, as long as you can bear it."

It surprises him. It just kind of comes out of him. Ellie looks his face up and down. She looks away and is quiet for some time. He doesn't expect a response and he's a little embarrassed. Then she speaks up out of nowhere.

"You're probably right."

"I know I don't—" He stops himself, until Ellie looks his way. "I know I haven't been through what you have. But I do get it, in my way." It's down there, like it always is. Always more water to be drawn, from the well of sorrow, when one wants it. He's pretty sure Ellie has something very similar. And from the look in her eyes, he's right.

"Especially with Bev," he admits quietly. He sees Bev smiling up at him, from that bloody concrete floor. "She's the one I thought of, when you were talking about Riley. She's the one I wish I could trade places with. That I regret surviving…"

Now Ellie's frowning like she doesn't like what she's hearing, but she doesn't argue.

"And it's fucking—" He screws up his face for a second. "And it's fucking selfish, I guess. To wish what happened to me, on her. But that's love, I guess. Because I know. In my heart, I know, that if somehow I could go back, that I would do whatever I could to make sure it was her who survived."

Ellie's still looking, still listening. She doesn't respond. She looks away, and her eyes go distant again. She sniffs, and rubs her nose.

"I'm sorry I get it," she says.

She picks up her pace and makes her way down the trail in front of him.

* * *

They reach the outskirts of Burley mid-afternoon. The sun won't set for hours, so they set up a soft camp in some trees by a trench. He and Ellie roll out their bags and take a nap. Lev is working on Abby about Go again. He had wanted to take a board, but they were impractical to carry. One of the Japanese soldiers had gifted Lev a set of stones, though. Lev had been so thankful, bowing over and over. Abby's still skeptical though.

"How are you going to play without a board, though?" Abby asks.

"That's the easy part," says Lev. "I just need a big enough piece of wood. I could cut it myself. Then you just have to paint lines on. Imagine having to make all the stones!"

Clint can practically hear Abby's reluctant smile. He succeeds in drifting off.

Next thing he knows, someone's nudging his shoulder, hard. He looks up. It's Abby's boot. She looks annoyed.

"Wakey wakey."

He rubs his eye. He was really out. He grunts and climbs up out of his bag.

"You got some good beauty sleep, there," she says.

"Must have needed it."

Abby scoffs.

"How come you didn't lie down?"

"Seriously? And who would have watched out for your snoring ass?"

That's a point, and Clint feels a bit sheepish. "Well, you could have woken me up first."

"I'm fine, princess." Abby helps Lev put away the stuff they had unpacked. Looks like they just ate. "Eat something. I do plan on sleeping tonight, for the record."

Ellie's pretending to ignore them, inspecting her belt knife. There's a little smile on her lips.

"Oh, what are you smiling about?" he asks her.

She looks up, playing dumb, but her smile gets bigger. "You're right," she says. She sheaths her knife, standing. "You did need it."

He wolfs some nuts and berries, and the last of his salted rabbit. The last of the sunset is an artist's swathe of orange, red and purple over the hills in the distant West. It's really nice.

The start off through the fields. There's no visible lights in the town, which is a good sign. The stars come out in force. They're out in the wilderness every night, but it's rare for them to be awake at this hour, so the swirling cosmos over Clint's head is pretty spellbinding. He's getting into a pretty great mood, then he looks over and see a rare, serious expression on Lev's face.

_Right. Max caution._

They start passing the out-buildings of the town. A farmhouse and some small, old-timey warehouses, they inspect them for signs of life, but there are none. No infected, either.

They enter the outer suburbs. There are some broken windows, but the houses are largely untouched. The lawns are covered with the same scrubs and yellow grass outside the city. It's really quiet. They can hear some infected in the distance, but not many.

"Why does this feel like Grand Junction?" Clint asks in his lower, combat-zone tone.

"Because it is," Ellie replies. "I don't think we're alone in this city."

Abby's carrying her automatic, hands on, over her torso. Her eyes are cool, scanning the buildings around them. A few blocks in they encounter the first marker. A skull with a serpent wrapped around the base, spray painted on a house with light colored paint.

Abby makes a gesture and they circle up. "We can go back the way we came."

Ellie shakes her head.

"What?" Abby asks.

Ellie twists her lips. She makes a decision. "We have to have those meds."

"Ellie, we are walking into danger."

"There's a reason for that," Clint points out. "Where supplies are likely to be, there will be people as well."

Abby's teeth show for a second, but she doesn't argue. She looks at Lev.

"That is true," he says.

"Look," says Ellie, "I don't like it either. But we haven't heard vehicles. They probably don't patrol at night. Let's scope out the hospital before we make a decision. It's not far from here, from what I saw earlier."

Abby looks at Clint. Her opinion hasn't changed, but she's not one for drawn out debate.

"I'm with Ellie. Let's scope out the hospital."

She turns in repressed exasperation. "Of—" she starts, stopping herself. But Clint can tell what she was going to say.

_Of course he's with Ellie._

Abby starts off to the North and they follow.

That's one dynamic that's remained a sore subject. Tempers tend to flare when danger is involved. As far as Clint is concerned, Ellie is his captain. They make decisions democratically, but Clint almost always follows her lead. And it's not just personal, the fact that they've been through so much together. It's practical, too. Ellie's got more experience out here than any of them. She's a survivor.

He can feel Abby's aggravation a few feet behind her, but she doesn't say anything else. It remains quiet for several more blocks. This is someone's territory, but either they're a small group, they've moved on from this city, or Ellie was right and they just don't patrol at night.

Burley's not huge, and after a few minutes, they come within sight of the hospital.

It's surrounded by what was once a wide lawn, and is now a dry, grassy field strewn with dark, gnarly trees. The hospital looks less white up close, covered in wind-blown dust. But that's not what gets their attention.

It's been barricaded. This isn't a FEDRA barricade, it's slipshod. Broken down in places. Boards cover some windows, on others they've been ripped away. In front of the main entrance there's a row of overturned tables and rotten looking mattresses. It's half fallen apart.

It's the kind of barricade that went up right after the outbreak, and didn't hold. This is not the base of whoever's operating out of here. In fact, it kind of screams 'infected inside.'

Which might be a good thing.

"I mean, fuck that," says Abby.

"Yeah…" says Ellie.

"You know there are infected in there," says Clint. "Which means there aren't people."

"That's preferable?" says Abby.

"Every day of the week," he replies.

"Hospitals…" Abby frowns, appraising it. "High on the danger list."

"When Yara had compartment syndrome," says Lev, frowning, "you went deep into an unexplored hospital for a surgical kit. You told me many times. That's where you fought that abomination."

"Something I would like to avoid doing again," says Abby.

"Sure, but there are four of us, this time. And Clint is right, it's the people we want to avoid."

"Maybe…" says Abby. "But that's a lot of open space from here to there."

"It's a good area for lookouts," Ellie admits.

Lev looks up at Abby. A lot of their communication is nonverbal. She gestures with her head, and Lev goes off silently to scout the houses at the edge of the open space. Abby walks up to the corner of a house and peers around it. Ellie and Clint follow.

"See anything?" Clint asks.

"Not much… But I see another one of those markers, on that house across the way."

"Good eye."

"At this point," says Ellie, "I'm wondering if these people have moved on—"

There's a clicking sound and all at once the three of them are flooded in light. Clint looks up and is immediately blinded by the source of the beam, on the roof of the house across the street.

"Guns down! Or we shoot," a voice calls out to them.

"Alright," Abby calls back, raising her hands. "Alright, we're not here for a fight."

"Says the person dead to rights?" His voice is relatively high. He sounds like a teenager.

"What do you want?" says Ellie. "We have trade. We're just looking for medicine."

" _Trade_ ," he laughs. "You're looking in the wrong town."

Assholes, then.

"Can we just fucking leave, then?" Ellie asks.

"Absolutely. But I am interested in your stuff, so put everything you're carrying down, then you can walk away."

A vein is showing in Ellie's forehead. "Come on, we can make a deal here."

"Are you thick? What country do you think you're in?"

Ellie snarls. "How old are you?"

There's a gunshot and the wood paneling behind Ellie shatters. She winces when little pieces of wood strikes her back, but otherwise doesn't react.

"I don't know. Ask me again."

This is not going well. They cannot just give up all their guns and supplies, that would be deadly. And there's no guarantee of safety even if they do.

There's the patter of something landing on the roof.

"Hey!" the voice shouts, then an explosion. The floodlight spins out of its position. Clint dives to the ground, along with the others. A piece of something from the explosion bounces off of his back.

He looks up to see that it had been one of their smoke bombs. Lev comes running around the side of the house.

" _Now_ ," Abby growls, rising without further explanation. She and Lev sprint for the hospital, and Clint and Ellie can do nothing but follow.

"Where the fuck are they?" someone is screaming. "Where the fuck are they?"

The only other sounds are their footfalls on the grassy field and heavy breaths. Dim, blue outlines of clustered leaves and black branches fly by in the moonlight. Abby is charging for the window with the boards ripped off. She reaches it, and vaults right in. Clint sees her flashlight come on. Lev climbs in behind her, and Ellie after. Clint looks over his shoulder. Weaker flashlights are pointing their direction. He grabs the sill and rolls over it.

Almost as soon as he hits the ground he hears the snarl of a runner and a gunshot. It was Abby.

"I'm sure he's got friends," she says, jaw tight.

"They will have heard that—" Lev starts.

"Not yet Lev, clear first!"

Ellie says nothing, pistol in her hand. Her expression is ice cold. Clint pulls out his shotgun.

Two more runners follow the first, charging in through the door. The first one trips over the corpse on the ground. Ellie shoots it in the back of the head. The second takes three to the chest and falls backward away from the doorway.

Ellie walks straight over their bodies into a hallway. She looks both directions, then beckons them with her head.

When Clint enters the hallway, there are no visible infected, but it's a gruesome scene. There are overturned gurneys strewn about, and a lot of skeletal corpses. This place hasn't been touched since the outbreak. Looking behind them as they advance, he sees a furtive movement and a glimpse of a pale visage disappear behind a doorway.

"I just saw a stalker," he reports.

Ellie advances with slow, silent steps.

"Where are we going, El?" Abby asks, her rifle fully shouldered.

"In."

The approach a T intersection. There's a directory on the wall. The arrows pointing left read 'Cafeteria,' 'Pediatrics,' and 'Storage 1H.' Wordless, Ellie turns the corner to the left.

In the distance behind them, there's shouting. They all stop. There's arguing outside.

"If they push the building, we need to have a secure position," says Abby.

"They've never pushed it before," says Ellie.

"Give me that!" says the voice from before. They go quiet. After a couple seconds, a strange whistling sound starts.

Abby's eyes go wide. "Get down!" she shouts, but the rocket explodes before they even hit the ground. Clint feels a shockwave hit his back and lands face down on the grimy tile.

For a second, it's as bright as day. Debris litters the floor and walls around them. Clint's ears are ringing, he can't hear very well.

"Lev? Lev?" Abby's voice is deep and distorted. Clint looks up to see her cradling Lev.

His eyes are open, but he seems really dazed. He comes back to himself. He sees what's happening, then pats her midsection. "I'm fine." She lets go, still scared, and he stands up.

"Clint?" It's Ellie. He looks up at her worried face, then forces his way to his feet, somewhat dizzy. She looks over his shoulder.

When he turns, the room they had entered from has erupted. The doorway is blasted open, and there's a ton of dust and smoke in the air. A fire is burning inside the room. Just then, screams come into focus and a group of runners appears at the end of the hallway.

"We need to move," Ellie says, but Abby is already pushing past her.

"How the fuck do we get in there now?" someone shouts in the distance.

"Let's go around the side," someone replies.

Clint can hear infected behind them now, from the other branch of the intersection. A clicker ambles out of a doorway in front of them, jerking back in surprise.

"Mine!" calls Clint. He shoulders his shotgun. The clicker screeches and starts flailing toward him. The shotgun roars and the clicker's throat becomes a mess of red. It falls to the ground, gyrating until it goes still. Clint pumps another shell into the chamber.

The infected are getting closer. It's impossible to say how many there are.

"In here!" shouts Abby. She rushes through the door the clicker had come out of.

Clint is the last one through, and he immediately turns to slam the door shut, but a runner's arm juts through, fingers scrabbling, preventing him from latching it.

"Damn it!" he growls. He swings the door open, then kicks the runner in the chest with all his might. It goes careening backwards into two others. He slams the door shut and throws the latch.

He hears a gunshot behind him. He turns to find that they're in the cafeteria, a large room with over a dozen large, circular tables surrounded by plastic chairs. At this point it's pitch black but for their flashlights, which reveal several infected charging toward the others.

"Left!"

"Get the runners down!"

Abby and Ellie drop the first couple runners. Lev aims carefully, then headshots a third. There are more, though, and Clint can see two clickers searching about, following the sounds, shambling in their direction. He reaches for his rifle to deal with that when he sees another threat.

Pale, naked limbs lope between the legs of the chairs and tables filling the room. One hideous face finds him, mouth agape, dark eyes glowing from his flashlight.

"Stalkers under the tables, back up!" he yells.

Caught off guard by that, Abby looks down, just in time to see a stalker peering at her from just a few feet away. "Shit!" she shouts in fear.

Seeing its moment, the stalker leaps at her, but is thrown off course by a shot from Ellie's magnum. It thrashes for a moment, then Ellie puts another round into it and it goes still.

Searching around, Lev's eyes widen suddenly. He pulls his bow and releases an arrow, killing another stalker fifteen feet away.

"Keep your distance!" Clint shouts. "Pick 'em off!"

He hears a tiny screeching sound, turns, and sees a stalker had bumped a chair leg a few feet behind him.

He curses as the thing leaps at him, wrapping its limbs around his body. He grabs what's left of its filthy, reeking hair before it can sink its teeth into his neck. He pulls at it, but it's strong, and his gun is pinned between them. He can't pry it off. He twists and shakes, but the thing is relentless. It hisses and spits in his ear. His growl turns into a roar. Then there's a powerful shock to his hand, and the thing goes limp. He pulls, and it falls off of him to the ground in a heap. Its head is all bloody.

He turns to see Ellie pointing her magnum in his direction, eyes like iron.

_That was way too god damn close._

One of the clickers is closing in on Lev. Lev is clearly scared. He shoots an arrow, but it pierces the clicker's shoulder, not even slowing it.

"Back off!" Abby shouts. She takes aim, but the clicker has reached the table between it and Lev. It grabs it, and throws it to the side powerfully. It slams into Abby, knocking her down.

Lev is backpedaling, terrified, but the Clicker is closing in. Ellie points her gun at it and pulls the trigger, but she's out of shots. Not missing a beat, she holsters it, and graceful as a panther, lopes up behind the clicker. She pulls her knife, jumps the last few feet onto its back, and begins to saw its throat.

It issue a horrible, wet wail, then drops to the ground in front of Lev. But the other clicker is almost on top of Ellie.

Clint has been able to close the distance, and just as Ellie looks up with rare fear in her eyes, he blasts it in the chest with his shotgun from less than two feet. Its cries are silenced before it slams onto its back, leaving a bloody smear.

The room is quiet.

Abby is standing again, red-faced and panting. "Is that it?"

"Look for stalkers," says Ellie.

Lev goes to one knee, scanning under the tables with his flashlight. He stops, aims, pulls and releases. There's an instantaneous yelping sound, and then more quiet.

"That's it," he says, exhaling.

Clint walks over to Ellie, helping her up. "Am I good?" he asks.

She looks him over, and nods. No cuts.

There's a banging sound, and they see runners through the glass panel of the door they'd come through, banging on it. Behind them, smoke is visible in the hallway.

"Fire!" Lev exclaims.

"It's spreading," says Abby, her tone making the stakes quite clear.

Ellie pulls a Molotov out of her pack. "Get the door." She lights it.

Automatically, Clint walks over, and Lev joins him on the other side of the double doors. Abby's lighting a Molotov too.

"Ready?" Clint asks.

"Does it look like it?" Ellie replies.

Clint throws the latch and they yank open the doors. The screaming runners fall into the room in a heap, and immediately both Molotovs break on them, and they erupt into flames.

They screech and flail while Clint and Lev back away. One gets to its feet and thrashes at Clint helplessly. Clint boots it and it lands on its back.

Smoke is pouring in from the hallway now. The flames are audible. Ellie runs forward and jumps over the remains of the burning infected. They follow her lead.

The hallways is half-lit now, flames licking at the T intersection from earlier. They can hear cries of pain from infected in that direction. Ellie starts trotting in the opposite direction.

They're moving deeper into the building. Or they seem to be, because there are no windows. Suddenly, there's a distant boom and a tremor. They freeze. A few seconds later, there's another one.

"It's the fire," says Abby. "This building is going to shit."

Ellie nods, and keeps moving. She reaches another intersection. She looks right, and her eyes widen. She moves for it, then a screaming infected charges her from the other branch. Clint takes aim but it passes out of sight too quickly. He hears gun shots. He races around the corner to see Ellie. The runner is down, but she's spooked. There are more cries behind him.

"God _damn_ it!" he shouts. He pulls out a shrapnel bomb and lights it. He hucks it down the hallway and it bounces once before exploding in front of the lead runner in a spray of red.

"There are more!" Abby shouts. "Keep going!"

Fifty feet away there are open double doors. They sprint all the way to them, but more runners are sprinting behind them, and there are clicks in the air.

They get through the doors and Clint goes to close one, but it's stuck. He curses, pulling at it, but it won't budge. He looks up to see more runners closing in on them. One of them snarls at him in mindless rage.

He looks down and sees the door stopper is down. He yanks it up. Lev is watching him, and does the same on his side. They slam the doors shut but not before two runners get through. Clint and Lev dive to the ground while the girls start lighting them up.

Infected slam into the doors, bowing them, but the latches hold. One of the glass panes, punctured by bullet, shatters as a runner's arm pushes through, reaching desperately for them. Clint scoots backward frantically, scrambling to his feet.

They all look at each other, wordless. Clint looks up the hallway. There's an open area not far away. They see it too and all charge toward it together.

They pull around the corner into what looks like a lobby. There is a wall of floor to ceiling windows and double doors. And between them and it, are three people.

Everyone raises their guns at the same time.

"Drop your guns! Now!" It's the kid from before. He's got messy hair, mean eyes, and a scraggly goatee.

"Drop _your_ fucking gun, dipshit!" Clint spits.

"This is our town!" shouts an older man.

"The fuck do you think that means?" says Ellie. "Cause I'm only counting three of you."

"You are not getting in our way," says Abby.

"You are gonna pay for what you did to Kai," says the kid.

"No," says Ellie, "Kai paid for sticking up the wrong people."

"You're gonna bleed, bitch," spits the kid, his voice dripping with vitriol.

Before anyone can respond, there's a dull boom, followed by a deep groan, as if from a slumbering giant. Keeping his gun trained, Clint looks over.

There is a set of heavily barricaded double doors on one side of the room. The sign above it reads 'Operating Suite F.'

"What the hell is that?" one of the strangers says.

Smoke is drifting into the room from the hallway. The glow of firelight is becoming visible.

"Ave, this is going to shit."

"Drop your fucking guns, _now!"_ the kid shouts. He's got gall, Clint will give him that.

There's a louder boom and screech as something hits the double doors and the barricade lurches. Everyone goes quiet. The spreading fire is a distant roar.

Then there's an explosion as the barricade gives way all at once, and a monstrosity bursts through.

At first, Clint can't tell what the hell he is looking at. It's like a fat, lumbering half-human, half-spider abomination. Then he sees it. It's two bloaters back to back, fused together in the head and upper back. As it moves, its feet move in unison, in a coordinated fashion, like a crab or a tarantula.

It steps forward, testing its newfound freedom. It issues a series of clicks. Two, milky white, melted-skin clickers follow it out of the suite, clicking tentatively.

"Fucking waste it!" screams the kid.

The locals start laying into the monstrosity with their pistols. It spasms at the impacts, then charges them, issuing a deafening roar. The kid backpedals, almost tripping when he backs into a row of chairs. A black haired mans screams in terror as the thing closes in on him. It grabs his face with a massive hand, and there's a disgusting crunching sound and the man's screams are muffled against it. The monster lifts the man's body off the ground and sinks its teeth into it.

Clint and the others are firing as well, but one of the clickers has trained on them, closing in on Abby. Clint is out of shells. He curses, and pulls out his axe. Abby's repeated gunshots stagger the clicker. Clint swings into the creature's knee, and it goes down on its other one. He swings again, crunching its skull.

He looks up in time to see the other bloater head clicking in their direction. It makes Ellie, and reaches for her, ambling in its four legged gait while the other half is still eating the man it's carrying.

Clint has never seen Ellie's eyes so wide. He charges the thing, swinging at one of its heads, but its fat arm knocks him off his feet like it's nothing.

Ellie jumps over a row of chairs next to her, but the monster pushes through them like they're nothing, its powerful legs launching chairs across the room. Ellie ducks under a chair and keeps moving.

"Go for its legs!" shouts Abby.

Lev launches two more arrows into its thighs, but they can barely penetrate its fungal hide. Clint only has his axe, and explosives, which aren't safe amidst the chaos. As he closes in again, the back half drops the body it had been eating and reaches for him. This stops its progress, as it pulls in two different directions. When Clint gets in striking distance, it swings and he ducks it, whacking its leg with his axe. It reaches out, grasping, and Clint jumps back. He does not want to meet the same fate the other guy did.

One of the strangers comes in with a shotgun, it blasts the monster in the side. It bellows in rage and manages to grab the shotgun. The man doesn't want to let it go, and the thing pulls him in. The man's face contorts in horror as the monster lifts him up, snapping his spine in midair.

Their would-be leader looks panicked. He runs for the doors, but he's intercepted by the other clicker. He runs toward them. When he reaches Lev, he grabs him and pushes him in the clicker's path. Lev stumbles and the clicker runs into him, wrapping its arms around him. Lev is terrified. It opens its mouth to bite him, and catches a bullet in its forehead, stunning it. Clint rushes it, and drives a heavy overhead swing into its head, where the bullet broke the fungal plates. Its body twitches. Clint rips his axe from its head and it falls backward to the ground.

Clint turns to see the kid against the back wall, still panicked. He looks between him and Lev, and then Abby appears in his peripheral. He raises his gun, but Abby hits his wrist with her pistol butt, then grabs his forehead with her left arm, slamming his head into the wall behind him. He slumps to the ground.

"Fuck!" Ellie shouts.

She's behind a counter in the other corner of the room. There's a crashing sound as the monstrosity is ripping the counter apart, piece by piece to get to her. She jumps over the other side, rolling to her feet, and it ambles after her.

"Ellie!" Abby bellows. Ellie looks in time to catch the shotgun Abby has thrown her. She shoulders it and blasts the monster's knee. It stops him, and he staggers, growling. Ellie shoves the barrel into its mouth and pulls.

That does it, and a shower of blood erupts from the back of its head. Ellie pumps the shotgun. "I'm out!" she says, clearly shaken.

The other half is still alive. It senses something is wrong, and struggles on its feet as the other half is no longer holding it up. It drops the body and roars in anger. Shifting its weight, it turns, swinging the other bloater around and knocking Ellie several feet away.

It turns about searching, and makes Ellie on the ground. Clint rushes before it can move, and it turns on him.

"Come on, bastard!" he taunts it. "Come on!"

It charges at him, the corpse on its back swinging, and Clint dips to the side, swinging his axe with all his might into its belly. It snarls, but it's lost track of him for the moment. Clint strains, trying to rip his axe out. The thing swings and slams its arm into Clint's face, finally wrenching the axe free and knocking Clint to the ground.

Clint's ears are ringing. That probably broke his nose. Dazed, he looks up to see Abby run up and slam her fist into the wound. She rips out her hand but not before it can grab her shoulder. Her eyes go wide. She plants her feet and pulls with all her might, but the hand will not let her go. Then an arrow penetrates its wrist, and it releases her. As soon as she's free, she turns and dives.

Then, with no warning, it explodes.

There is a shower of gore as its belly is blasted wide open. Abby had planted a grenade in its wound. Its body spasms for a second, then it falls thunderously to its knees, then the ground.

Then, the only sound is the growing roar of the flames, and heavy breathing. The fire's glow is brightening in the hallway.

"Is anyone bit?" Ellie asks. She sounds scared. "Is anyone bit?"

"I'm okay," says Lev, clearly shaken.

"I'm fine," says Abby, marching over to Clint. She looks him up and down. "Clint's good."

He's got to look fucked up. Blood is dripping from his nose. He wipes some of it away. "We need to get out of here," he says. He stalks over to where the kid is lying against the wall. He thinks for a second, then grabs the collar of his shirt, dragging him.

They push through the glass doors into the night. Clint drops the kid in front of some bushes. "Congratulations," he says to his unconscious form, "you're the stupidest piece of shit I've ever met."

They can hear voices now. There are people out, watching the fire, which is becoming a bigger and bigger spectacle. From what they can see, it's covering a quarter of the hospital by now. It lights up the whole field on that side of the building.

"Time to go," says Ellie.

They are visible but distant enough to be difficult to recognize. There are a lot of people out and no one pursues them as they walk around the side of the building back into the darkness. They make their way back across the field. At one point a new group of people appears from around a house a hundred yards out or so. They hide behind some bushes for a couple minutes, waiting for them to pass.

Ellie looks at Abby. "East and out?"

Abby's jaw is tight and her eyes alert. Otherwise, she's expressionless. She nods.

Eventually, the group passes by, and they press on.

* * *

Ellie sniffs. By this point, it must be the early hours of the morning, and she's exhausted now that the adrenaline's gone.

They haven't made it out of Burley yet. They'd seen a couple patrols, so they resumed maximum caution, sneaking between houses. And they keep seeing those damn markers painted around. Seems like there are more of these guys than they'd thought, dozens, maybe more than a hundred. They're almost out, though.

They're in an area with a lot of small warehouses, which means a lot of open space, but also a lot of fences that obscure vision, so it's not so bad. Once they get through here, they should be in the clear.

Abby's currently in the lead, crouched by a chain link fence with vertical slats, but she's not moving, and Ellie is tired of staring at her back. "What?" she asks her.

Abby turns. She gestures with her head at a double trailer next to them.

"What about it?"

"Dunno, got a good feeling. Figure why not?"

Ellie frowns. "We can't afford to make noise breaking in."

"No noise required." Abby looks back at Lev.

Ellie turns to see Lev nod. He lopes over to the trailer, and they follow. When Lev gets to the door at the top of the ramp, it's locked, of course. But then he pulls out some tools and starts working on the lock.

"Where'd you learn that?" Ellie asks him.

"Eastman," he replies, concentrating, "in Catalina." There's a little click as he throws the latch. He looks at Abby, pulling the door open. "Better cross your fingers." Abby scoffs.

Lev crosses his fingers on both hands, then he tries to cross his ring finger and pinky as well, before he goes in. Abby stifles her laughter. "Can you be serious?"

It's a little office. It's maybe thirty feet long and wide. There are dusty desks strewn with papers all around the room. It really looks like it might have been untouched since outbreak. There are a couple offices in the back, and a little break area, from the looks of it. Ellie heads toward it.

Ellie's looking through the desk drawers in one of the enclosed offices, hoping for a cheeky bottle of whiskey, but no luck. Abby appears in the doorway. "Anything?"

Ellie shakes her head. "Not yet."

"Be nice to make this shit show worth it," says Abby.

"You're telling me. Honestly… I'm still trying not to think about that mess. Not until we get out of here."

"Fair enough. Glad you brought us along?"

Ellie considers her. "Suppose I oughta be."

"Flattering."

"You need flattery?"

Abby smirks. "No, but recognition is nice. I have to admit, if it's only gonna be four of us, I'm glad it's you two. You're good at it."

Ellie's a little taken aback. "You're good at it, too."

"I know," says Abby. "It's kind of a miracle we survived each other."

Ellie sniffs. Miracle isn't the word she would use. Abby's not wrong, though. She makes herself nod. "Only because you spared my life the first time."

"You spared mine the second."

"Yeah, well, the second time should have never happened."

"I'm glad it did."

Ellie looks at her sharply. Abby's expression is neutral. Ellie looks over at Lev, talking about something quietly with Clint.

"I guess I am, too," she admits.

Without further comment, Abby starts digging through the cabinets in the break area while Ellie checks the other closed office.

"You got anything?" she hears Clint ask.

"This person had some cans of soup in their desk."

"Wouldn't put too much hope in those."

"Yeah…"

Ellie's coming up dry, too. Definitely unlikely to find bullets here, either. Abby makes an excited sound.

Ellie emerges from the office to see Abby ducking into one of the lower cabinets. She fumbles around then emerges with two plastic bottles of isopropyl alcohol. Ellie's eyes widen.

"Score!"

Abby smiles and tosses her one. She gives Ellie a look that says _I called it._

"Yeah, yeah. Lucky call." Ellie walks over to Clint. "Wasn't for nothing, at least."

"Worth it, though?" he asks.

She shrugs.

"That was a hell of a shot," says Clint.

Ellie looks a question at him.

"With the stalker, in the cafeteria."

Already a bad memory. She sniffs. "When the moment comes, you do or you don't."

"I suppose that's about right."

"We'll split this bottle between us, but let's get out of town first—"

Clint's listening with a little smile, then his eyes move toward the entrance and fly wide open.

" _Ellie get down!_ " Clint shouts. She feels his arm across her midsection and turns to see a woman pointing a pistol at her. She fires.

Ellie hits the ground and sputters. She reaches up to her head and chest. There's no pain. She wasn't hit. She sidles up to the desk in front of her. Abby and Lev are taking cover too, fifteen feet away. Lev is grimacing and Abby's eyes are wide. Ellie's gun is in her hand. Clint is lying next to her. Her breathing is fast. She kicks Clint's boot.

"Clint, get up!"

But when she looks, his eyes aren't moving and there's a hole in his face.

"It's them!" the woman shouts. "They match the descriptions, be careful!"

There's the shuffling of more feet by the entrance.

"Ellie," says Abby, breathing hard through her nose, "why isn't Clint moving?"

Ellie doesn't answer, but whatever Abby sees on her face, it seems to convey the message. Abby's features melt into shock for a second.

There's a vertical half-wall behind Abby. Ellie sees a man's face peer around it. They lock eyes, and Abby notices. He rounds it and tries to level a shotgun at them, but Abby stands up, grabbing it, and it discharges into the wall. She reaches up, grabs him around the jaw and the back of his head. His eyes go wide, and she wrenches his head, snapping his neck. He drops to the ground, lifeless.

The others must be taking cover. Abby is breathing really hard. Her eyes are wild looking. She bellows.

" _You're all going to fucking die_!"

It's so terrifying it almost knocks Ellie over. Abby can't do this by herself.

There's a little half wall by Ellie's desk, too. She readies her pistol and rounds it, aiming. She and a man see each other at the same time, but his pistol is lowered, so he takes a bullet in the chest and the neck, going down.

"Sit down, bitch!" the woman screams, firing her pistol. "You're gonna—" but she's interrupted by the sound of an arrow finding its mark.

Ellie peers around the half wall. Abby is standing out in the open, bleeding from her shoulder, teeth bared. From the sounds of their feet, there were only about four. Abby stomps toward the entrance. A man, clearly spooked, stands up from behind a desk and tries to aim his pistol at Abby. She swats his hands, but it goes off before it flies across the room, extracting a small spray of blood from Abby's side. The man rears back and slugs Abby, but she scarcely moves.

At that point he changes tactics and tries to turn and run, but Abby grabs him around his collar and yanks, slamming her head into his. He's dazed, and she grabs him by his hair. She slams his face into the desk, and it comes up bloody. Ellie can't tell if he's conscious. Abby issues a vicious growl and slams his head into the desk again. He goes to the floor in a heap.

It's done.

Ellie's standing in one of the walkways between all the desks, feeling stunned.

"Abby?" Lev says.

Abby turns and starts stomping toward Ellie. For a second Ellie is really scared, but when she gets out of the way, Abby keeps walking until she's standing over Clint.

She looks down at him for a few moments. Her eyes look… distant. Hollow, almost. She bends down, gathers him gently, then ends up lifting him up on her back, one arm over each of her shoulders, head against her neck. He looks like a little boy.

Abby looks Ellie's way wordlessly, then her face changes.

Ellie is hearing a ringing sound again. Her skin is tingling, and she feels numbness and a strange pressure inside.

It's Clint, and it's Tommy, and it's Joel, and it's Jenna. Ellie's head is spinning. Her heart is pounding. Abby frowns, looking concerned.

"Ellie?" it's Lev's voice.

Ellie's going to slip, she feels like she's going to have a heart attack. She starts making strange sounds from deep in her throat. Her teeth start chattering. Then she feels something warm.

It's Lev's hand. She looks at him. He looks concerned, too, but it's stabilizing, somehow. He removes her left hand from her gun, and guides her right hand, holstering it. He takes her right hand in both of his, looking into her eyes.

"Ellie, we need to get out of the city."

Right. Simple. Of course. East and out. They're almost home.

Almost home.

After a few moments, Ellie finds herself nodding.

* * *

If the gunshots brought more people to the area, they never find out, because they don't see anyone until they pass the last warehouse into scrubby field land. There's a trench running between two old farm tracts, and they follow it to reduce visibility. As they walk, the sky brightens and the sun starts to rise.

Ellie walks like a zombie. Get out of the city. Get safe. Simple. Now and then she looks back. Lev is always watching her.

At one point, there's a sound, and Ellie turns to see Abby down on one knee. She's sweating. She's been carrying Clint for maybe an hour. She looks exhausted. Ellie goes to speak.

"No," is all Abby says. She takes a couple deep breaths and grunts, rising to her feet again.

A few minutes later, they approach an old, unpainted brown farmhouse.

"Ellie." It's Lev. She turns and he looks from her to the farmhouse, then back towards Abby, and Clint.

Seems unlikely Abby can carry him all the way to Jackson.

Ellie nods and starts climbing out of the trench. There's a dusty patch around the farmhouse. It looks like it used to be a garden. There are wildflowers. It's nice.

Wordless, Ellie walks into a shed not far away. She finds a shovel. She grabs it and returns. Abby has laid Clint down gently to the ground.

Ellie stands there with the shovel for a minute, looking at Clint. The bullet entered under his left eye. It's a clean hole. His lips are parted. His eyes stare into the sky. They're the same color as it.

Lev is saying something to Abby about rest, but Abby is eyeing Ellie. She stands up and walks over. She takes the shovel from her hand, as gently as Ellie had taken back her knife after forgiving her.

"You go first," Abby says. She turns and buries the shovel head into the ground.

Ellie walks unsteadily over to Clint. She drops to her knees next to him. She just stares at him.

Every few seconds, Ellie can hear the sound of the shovel digging into the earth.

Lev kneels next to her. He lays his hand on her upper back. "I'm here, Ellie," he says.

Ellie doesn't know what to do. This whole situation is wrong.

"I don't—" she starts, but then it all comes up and it turns into a mournful sound as she hunches over. Drool drips from her lips. Lev grabs her and pulls her into his chest.

"I told him not to do it! I told him not to do it!" she wails.

_If you fucking die protecting me…_

She can feel his arm against her middle. The woman aims at her, and fires.

Memories are pounding her. His hand on her chest, against that pillar. The first time she'd seen him really angry. That entire fucking thing was on purpose.

"I know, Ellie," says Lev, cradling her. "I know."

"I knew it would happen… I knew it would happen…"

_Ellie, you don't decide who gets to love you._

"No… just don't…"

"It's okay, Ellie," says Lev, "he won't go unmourned, remember that."

_Every step I took out here, I took with my own two feet._

"No, it's my fault, it's my fault…" She knew he wouldn't make it. She knew it.

"It's not your fault, Ellie…" Lev squeezes her.

"Why…?" she groans. Why did he say yes?

_Maybe you have to be me to see it._

"No…" she moans. "No… there's nothing…"

Why her? Why did he have to die for her, of all people?

They were almost home.

Ellie lets the waves push through her. She sobs quietly, against Lev's chest.

The sound of Abby's shovel has stopped. Ellie can hear her softly crying. Somewhere nearby, a mockingbird lands, singing its morning song.

It's turning into a bright Summer day.


	25. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter today. I didn't want to leave you hanging too long after the last one. I've been looking forward to this part of the story since we left Jackson. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. More to come. Enjoy.

Abby is standing on the final slope of the butte. Jackson stretches out before them, through the trees. The sun is close to setting and there are floodlights all along the wall, like the last time Abby was here.

Ellie is standing between her and Lev. She’s just standing there, swaying slightly. Her eyes are hooded again. She looks like she’s drunk, or in a trance or something. It’s freaking Abby out.

 _Come on, Ellie. We’re right here_.

It’s been three weeks since Burley. The memory of that morning, when they buried Clint, it’s still too fresh. Abby feels a wave of pain every time she thinks about it. For her, every day has been the same. Dawn. Get up, whether or not you slept. Make breakfast. Make sure Ellie eats. Start walking. Take breaks only when someone can’t continue. Eat while you walk. Make camp when it starts getting dark.

The routine, it’s what has helped her.

Lev didn’t have the same kinds of ties to Clint, but he’s a gentle soul and Abby can tell it hurt him to see Clint die. But he’s kept that pain to himself. He’ll go off on his own for a while to cry. When he gets back, Abby always hugs him.

Ellie…

Clint never wanted to talk about it directly, but Abby’s pretty sure Ellie’s had one foot in a bad place for a really, really long time. She leaned on Clint. Reluctantly, but still. After he died like that…

Ellie started acting really weird.

She rarely talks now. She hasn’t cracked a joke since Burley. She tries to get away with not eating. She won’t make it for herself, and she’ll just go to bed without saying anything if you let her. She shot a rabbit last week, but when Abby made a stew, Ellie just sat there staring into the distance until Lev scooped a cup and handed it to her. She’s been losing weight, and Abby hates the way it feels to watch that.

When Abby would steal glances at her while they were climbing through the hills, her eyes were always lost in the distance, lips parted, brow slightly pinched. One time she was standing a little ways out from camp, looking down at the valley. She must have thought no one could see her, but Abby was watching. She stared blankly, then at one point her face twisted all up in a painful expression that turned Abby’s stomach.

Abby didn’t know what to do. This is not her specialty, and Ellie… It’s one thing to have her back in a fight, but this?

Lev has been so good with her. When she’s bad at night, sitting off on her own, Lev will go over and put a hand on her back, and only then will she start crying. Periodically, most days, Lev will just start monologuing to Ellie, regaling her with stories and really cheesy jokes and stuff. She’ll just stare back while he does this, so it seems to take her mind off things, at least. Sometimes she even smiles a little.

Now they’re inches from Jackson and Ellie just stopped moving.

“Ellie,” says Abby, “we’re almost there. Let’s go.”

Ellie doesn’t respond. Abby’s getting anxious. Ellie is not in a good way, but without her, they do not set one foot in Jackson. They could be shot on sight.

“Ellie.” It’s Lev’s voice. He takes her hand. She looks at him. “Ellie, please take us the rest of the way to Jackson.”

His words, his face. So matter of fact. Her eyes are more open now, though they still have that weird, hopeless slack to them.

She doesn’t nod or say anything, she just starts walking down the slope. Abby lets the air out of her lungs.

It’s fairly steep and they half-stumble along. Sticks are breaking under their boots. Abby can see the clear line ahead of them, where all the trees are cut down. And the watchtower.

They’ve gone maybe twenty or twenty five feet when something just snaps in Ellie. She lets out this long, hideous groan that twists Abby’s stomach, and just starts running down the incline.

“Shit! Lev!” They pick up the pace after her, but she’s gaining distance.

“Di-na!” Ellie is wracked, voice distorted and awful. “Di-na!” She’s at a full sprint.

Spotlights appear in the watchtower. A voice blares out from the tower. “Stop! Stop there! If you do not stop, we will shoot!” Jesus Christ, at this point they’re going to confuse her for a runner.

“Ellie stop, god damn it!” Abby yells. Ellie is halfway across the clear line.

“I said stop! This is your last—“

“Jason, stop—put that fucking thing down! God damn it, that’s _Ellie_!”

“What? Oh, fuck.”

“Get Maria on the phone. _Now_!”

Ellie gets to the gates and starts pounding on them. Abby and Lev are closing in. There’s a loud clang and the gate starts to move. Ellie and her wailing disappear inside.

This is the part that Abby has been dreading, and it is not going well so far. When they get close to the gate, Abby sees a female guard with a rifle. She looks them over, but doesn’t see anything out of place. She gestures for them to come in with her head.

When Abby walks through, a group of four people are holding Ellie back.

“Damn it, Ellie!”

“Di-na!” She’s just about gone.

“Ellie, you need to see Maria! Shit, Mavis, maybe we should just let her go.”

“Let me go!”

“No, Fred, I’m not explaining that to Maria.”

At that point the strength seems to go out of Ellie and she goes slack in their arms, crying. “No…”

They clearly don’t know what to do. Someone catches Abby’s eye.

There’s an athletic looking, middle aged man watching her closely with fascination. He looks at her shoulder, then her face. _Shit_. This is the moment she was afraid of. And Ellie’s fucking incoherent. He looks at Ellie, then at her, confounded.

Around a building about fifty yards up the way, a woman with pale hair and a white coat appears, running. “Ellie?” she shouts.

“No…” Ellie moans.

The woman’s eyes are locked on Ellie. When she nears, she starts pushing Ellie’s handlers apart. “Oh, would you get the hell off of her! Ellie, Ellie look at me.” Ellie is in her own world though. There are tears and snot on her face. Her lips are pulled back in a grimace. Abby fucking hates looking at it but she can’t look away.

It doesn’t make sense. If anything, Abby expected Ellie to finally find some relief, being back here. Then it hits her.

She’s not acting like this because she’s back in Jackson. She’s been carrying it the entire time.

At that point Abby does look away. She feels Lev’s warm hand and meets his eyes. He’s got one of his solemn looks. Often they’re beyond her, but this time she thinks she gets it.

 _This had to happen_.

“Maria…” It’s the man from before, who was staring at Abby. He’s got some decorations on his coat that make him look like a captain of some sort.

Maria is still trying to gather Ellie. She looks up impatiently. She follows his eyes to Abby, then her entire body goes still. She stares in amazement. Her mouth droops open. She cocks her head back, as if what she was seeing was impossible.

Maria looks at the female guard standing by and orders her to mind Ellie with the ease of high command. The guard bends down and lays a gentle hand on Ellie’s back, whispering to her. Maria stands up and slowly walks toward Abby. She looks at one of the other guardsmen. “Call Dina, now.”

“Dina…” Ellie moans.

Abby’s heart is pounding. Her hackles are up. She knows she looks stiff but she’s trying as hard as she can not to look defensive. Sharp breaths push through her nose.

When Maria is close, she puts her hands on her hips, regarding Abby.

The man on the phone is speaking urgently. “Who? Is this Dale? Get Dina, now. Why? Ellie just came through West Gate, that’s fucking why…”

“You came all the way back here with her?” Maria asks.

Abby nods.

Maria looks her face up and down. “Where’s Clint?”

It’s a shock Abby didn’t expect and she breaks eye contact, searching the dirt for a second. She meets Maria’s eyes. It doesn’t come out that steady. “Ambush.”

Maria nods.

The man is still talking frantically on the phone. “What? How is she? _How is she?_ She’s fucking anguished, that’s how she is…”

Maria looks down at Lev and Abby’s gut feels tight. “And what’s your name?”

“Levijah. But I prefer Lev.” He talks as if addressing a friendly stranger.

There’s a ghost of a smile on Maria’s lips. It disappears. Conspicuously, Maria leans over and looks at the tattoo on Abby’s left tricep. The Firefly symbol. Slowly, she rises back up and meets Abby’s eyes.

“Did she do it?”

Ellie is still crying, collapsed down on top of her knees in the wet dirt. The woman is trying to comfort her but not helping much. Abby thinks of the scar on the side of her head.

“Yeah,” she replies.

“Did you help her?”

Abby frowns. What? She guesses Maria doesn’t know, how it played out. She helped Ellie afterwards, but she doesn’t think that’s what Maria’s asking. She’s taking too long to respond.

“I mean, I showed her where the good food in the caf is.”

There are laughs around them and Abby is taken aback. When she looks again, Maria does have a little smile. She holds out her hand. “Maria.”

Abby takes it, not too firmly. “Abby.”

“Welcome to Jackson, Abby.” And with that, she turns and walks back towards Ellie. She points back at them, looking at the captain. “Jones, these two are under my personal protection.”

Jones is wearing a soldierly look, eyeing Abby. He nods curtly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Maria approaches Ellie. “Now, Ellie, girl… It’s breaking my heart, seeing you like this…”

“No…” Ellie stammers.

Another woman comes running around the building, carrying a baby. She clutches his head against her shoulder protectively as her feet pound the ground, dirt flying behind her. Abby’s stomach drops when she recognizes her.

Maria and Ellie look at the same time. Ellie gets to her feet, pushing past Maria and the guard and runs to Dina at a dead sprint. They slam together and embrace, almost falling down from the impact. And just like that, they’re both crying, and the baby is making all these sounds too. They’re all saying things to each other that probably no one else can understand. First they’re all hugging, then the baby reaches for Ellie and she scoops him up, bawling into his shoulder as he bawls into hers. Her three fingered hand strokes his hair, over and over. Lovingly, desperately.

Abby looks down to the wet earth. For a second, she almost wants to throw up.

“I want to go home…” she can hear Ellie sob. “I want to go home…”

“Yeah, that’s right,” says Dina. “That’s right, we’re going home. Dinner’s almost ready. Come on. Use your feet.”

It’s way too personal. None of them had any right to witness that. On the other hand, Abby’s pretty sure those three are pretty much unaware of the rest of them.

She can hear Maria snort softly. She has her hands on her hips again. She turns and looks at Abby with a smile Abby doesn’t fully understand. It makes her uncomfortable.

“Well,” she says. “I guess we’ll be needing to put you up, then.”

* * *

A mild-mannered guy named Travis takes them down to a place called Arnold’s. It’s an old restaurant they’ve restored. Lots of dark varnished wood, and an elk head mounted above the fireplace.

“Maria’s treat tonight,” says the man behind the counter, waving a spatula at her, “but next time you pay.” He walks back into the kitchen, voice carrying. “And I know there’s gonna be a next time after you taste this elk steak.”

Travis and Cody eat with them. Maria comes in halfway through and sits with them. She wants their story, and Abby gives it to her. There’s a weight on Maria’s brow when she gets to the part… to Burley. Maria speaks up.

“Well, really, Abby, it’s a miracle the rest of you made it all that way. And I’m glad for it.” Maria reaches out and squeezes Abby’s hands. “And I’m sorry about Clint.”

Abby hadn’t said anything about… their time together. But it seems like Maria gets it anyway.

Maria says it’s late and she has more to attend to, but Travis will show them to their quarters for now. And they can come to Maria’s office in the morning to see about finding some work.

Lev is chipper, and chats happily with Travis and Cody, asking about Jackson and life lately. They’re disarmed, of course, and seem to take a liking to him pretty quickly.

“Not to ruin the fun,” says Abby eventually, smiling, “but it’s been a pretty long day.”

Travis’s brows shoot up. “Long year, sounds like. Let’s get you settled.”

He leads them down a street lined with houses, which is remarkable. Now, it’s something Abby has seen a thousand times out in the unclaimed land, but these houses have actual lawns that aren’t overgrown. There are gardens. The windows are all intact, and some even have fresh looking paint. It’s…

Nice.

Travis leads them to a narrow house with yellow paint. Someone planted marigolds out front.

“Who’s house is this?” Abby asks.

“Yours, now.”

“That’s it? You just give people houses?”

“If Maria lets you, yeah. You’ll need a job, of course.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Then you’re set.”

It’s hard to believe, but there’s no one left to stop them. Travis bids them goodnight, and it’s just Abby and Lev in their new house.

She flips the light switch and it works. Not a lot in the way of decoration, but other than that, it’s a dream. There are some old couches, a couple lamps. A painting of a snowman. The walls are painted a cream color.

Lev makes a sound suggesting wonder, walking out into the living room and looking around. “All this space for us?”

Abby walks into the kitchen. There’s a window over the sink with white, lacy curtains. She moves the faucet handle and water comes out readily. She holds her hand under the water for a minute, but it doesn’t get warm. She’s gonna need to light the pilot on the heater.

“Ooh, a chess board!” says Lev. “There are other games in here, too…”

Abby’s… nervous. This doesn’t seem right. It’s too much. It’s too good.

It’s more or less how Ellie described it, but…

If this is really how it’s going to be, Abby’s going to need some time to get used to it. She walks into the living room and takes her pack off her shoulder. She runs a hand over her stomach. She’s still feeling…

“Are you okay?” Lev asks.

Abby drops her pack. She’s taken aback. She looks at him. “Am _I_ okay?”

Lev’s mood is different now. He looks solemn. He runs a finger along the back of the couch as he slowly walks. “I could tell it was hard for you,” he says. He’s doing the thing where he’s being careful with her. He’s not afraid. He’s being gentle. “To see Ellie like that.”

Abby’s brow furrows. She rolls her shoulder. She doesn’t really want to talk about it.

How is Lev always able to make her feel small?

“And I know you recognized the other woman as well.” He’s standing there with his easy grace, hand resting on the arm of the recliner. His brown eyes are so deep. “Dina. And her baby.”

Out of nowhere Abby’s leg starts trembling. Lev’s brows pinch in concern. She’s seeing Dina running full speed toward Ellie, clutching her baby.

_Ellie! Ellie!_

Her lips had been pulled back, brow all wrinkled. When they’d embraced, there had been so much love.

Abby makes a sound deep in her throat and covers her mouth. Her hand is quivering.

She’s in that dark theatre, that hole. That hell. She’s apoplectic. Ellie is writhing on the floor, beaten half to death. She can feel Dina’s ponytail in her fist, knife at her throat. Abby is going to cut her throat open and watch her blood spill across the floor in front of Ellie. She’s going to relish it.

Ellie is in too much pain to open her eyes.

 _Don’t…_ she moans. _She’s pregnant…_

It had actually made Abby happy.

_Good._

Abby tries to say ‘no,’ she doesn’t even know what was going to come after it, but instead she just moans and falls to one knee. She stops fighting it and just starts sobbing. Lev is on top of her and pulls her head into his chest. The tears run freely into his shirt.

“You only ever wanted to do the right thing,” he says. “You only ever wanted to do the right thing.”

She balls up his shirt in her fist. Her vision is all blurry.

“You slipped for a second because you were in so much pain. But I was there, to catch you.”

Her sob turns into a kind of wail.

“You only ever tried to do the right thing.”

_Not with Joel._

Abby’s sobs echo off the cream colored walls while Lev comforts her, but the neighborhood outside is quiet.

This is their first night home.


	26. Working on It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been keeping up, you may notice I posted this chapter and the next at the same time. I still have more written, but because there are multiple perspectives that I'm not necessarily writing at the same time, there's been some editing work going on in the background that's been holding things up.
> 
> I've been waiting the whole story to get back to this part, but now that I'm here I think I'm nervous about not doing it right. In any case, it still feels good. I hope you enjoy.

Abby wakes up and starts. She pulls at her covers, and looks around. She’s lying in a large bed. Sun is coming in through the curtains. She remembers where she is and lets out her breath.

She rubs her eyes, then swings her feet over the side of the bed. She figures sleeping in a bed is something she could get used to more quickly.

Looking down, she notices the blankets and pillow on the floor next to the bed. She scoffs. Lev must have given in. She’d put him to bed in the room next to hers last night. He’d complained about having to sleep so far away. She reminded him this is how it was in the Fireflies. She felt bad, though. Seraphite families always slept close to each other, so it was what he had grown up with.

There are noises coming from the kitchen. Abby plods out into the living area. She’d slept hard.

“Lev?” she calls.

“In here.”

In the kitchen, she sees him stirring something in a pan. “What’s that?”

“Breakfast, I imagine.”

She looks. There are eggs, tomatoes, onions too, looks like. “Where did you get all that?”

“Damon.”

“Who the hell is Damon?”

Lev laughs. “So suspicious. He came earlier and gave me this huge crate of food. I put it all in the, uh…”

“Refrigerator?”

“That thing.”

“I didn’t hear anyone earlier.”

“Because you were very unconscious. It’s a good thing I heard him knock, or we’d starve.” He takes the pan off of the burner. “Probably because I slept on the uncomfortable floor.”

“Well, last I saw you—“ Abby stops herself. She’s doing her ‘surly’ thing, as Lev would call it. She takes a breath. Her guard will come down, eventually. “Did you have any nightmares?”

“Not really…” Lev rarely leaves his sentences unfinished. He must be embarrassed. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”

He looks up at her, vulnerable. For the thousandth time, Abby thinks about how glad she is to have him. She smiles, and squeezes his shoulder. He smiles back.

“Did they deliver any elk steaks?” she asks, looking in the fridge.

“Nope. He also said we can get our own food from the market, but we’ll need ‘notes.’ Which I thought, like music? But I think he meant, like, ‘money,’ I guess.”

It clicks in Abby’s mind. “Shit, what time is it?”

“That’s a good question. Oh!” His eyes go wide. “Damon also said we needed to go see Maria as soon as we could.”

“Yeah, I remember that, too.”

_Jones, these two are under my personal protection._

“Abby,” says Lev, scooping some of the eggs onto a plate. “Don’t worry too much.”

She thinks for a second, then scoffs. “Easier said than done.”

They eat breakfast at the little table in the kitchen, just the two of them in the quiet morning light.

“I could get used to this,” says Lev at one point. Abby just smiles.

* * *

Abby stands in front of the door. No one had even escorted them. Having nothing else to do, she knocks three times.

“Enter,” she hears.

Abby pushes open the door to see Maria leaning at the edge of the window, looking out over Jackson. She looks at Abby, wearing a curious smile. She gestures to the chairs. Abby and Lev take a seat.

Maria sits in her high back chair and takes measure of them. “You seem nervous.”

“Do we need to be?”

“Only if you don’t like work, but I understand you’ve been with the Fireflies for some time.”

“Whole life, almost,” Abby replies.

“Then you’ll do fine.”

“What is this, exactly?” Lev asks.

“Good question,” Maria replies. “This is something we do with all newcomers here. This is where we figure out how to put you two to work.”

“Oh,” says Lev. “That makes sense.”

“So,” says Maria, leaning back, “what are you good at?”

Abby’s at a loss. There are a lot of answers to that question. She’s just… never been asked it, like that. She’s not sure where to begin.

Maria glances at Lev.

“Well…” he considers. “Abby and I have spent a lot of time in the wild. I can use a bow, and guns. I can hunt, and track, and hide really well…” He fidgets a little.

“But?” Maria asks.

“But I’d rather be around people. I like people.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know… I like talking. I like meeting new people. I guess that’s not a skill…”

“I’m not sure,” says Maria, “it might be. I’ve got some ideas. And you, Abby?”

“Ah…” Abby sniffs. “I was a Firefly. I’ve been in a lot of fights. My dad… I grew up in it. I’m good at taking orders. I’m good at seeing things through. I know how to take care of guns. I’m not afraid of a fight. I don’t…” The hospital wing flashes in Abby’s mind, where she found her dad. She sets her jaw and pushes it down. “I don’t let my people down.”

“Your people,” Maria considers softly. “That’s good. You’ll start as a guard. Edna will make good use of you.”

Abby sits up. “You guys get a lot of trouble?”

“No, very little. You’ll help see to that.”

“And me?” Lev asks.

Maria bears a little smile. “Mailman.”

Lev stares back, mouth slightly open. “Huh?”

Maria grins. “I think you’ll like it, I’ll have Ortez explain.”

“Uh…” says Abby. “Is that it?”

Maria regards her. “Normally. How are you feeling, Abby?”

There’s a wisdom, and a firmness, and a tenderness. It feels strange. Abby kind of doesn’t like it, but she knows she has to answer.

“Nervous.”

Maria nods.

“Ellie told me I’m infamous around here.”

“Infamous?” Maria cocks her head. “Maybe a bit of an exaggeration.” She rises from her chair and paces back toward the window.

“Can I ask something?” Abby says.

Maria looks at her, and nods.

“What do you know about me?”

A heaviness settles into Maria’s expression. “Enough that I never expected you to walk through my gates.”

She looks out the window for a while and Abby starts to feel like that’s all she’s going to get. Then Maria continues.

“I know that two years ago, you did something that I suspect you acutely regret.”

Abby’s chest gets tight, and her breathing stiffens up, but Maria doesn’t look for confirmation.

“I know that a girl near and dear to my heart got lost up in that mess, and decided she needed to do something about it, to make it right.” Maria looks over. “To do something about you.” She looks over the town below. “I might have stopped her,” she says quietly.

“But I told myself I couldn’t, and she went off to Seattle and, as I understand it, things got worse for all those involved. She, Dina and Tommy came back some time later, worse for the wear, to put it nicely. She and Dina moved to a farmhouse outside town after that, for their version of a happily-ever-after. Or at least that’s what I had hoped. Then Dina comes back to town some time later with JJ in tow and I—“ For the first time, Maria’s voice breaks. She tucks her hair behind her ear.

“I feared I would never see Ellie again.”

It’s the first time Abby realizes that Maria is not just the mayor to Ellie. She’s family.

Maria looks at Abby again. There’s the mask of a smile, but there’s sorrow in the eyes. And empathy.

“She did tell me about Santa Barbara.”

A chill spreads through Abby’s gut.

“I was the first she told. I might be the only one who knows.” Maria glances at Lev, then back to Abby, and Abby knows she gets it. “You two must have talked about what happened. About everything.”

Ellie is standing there on that beach in the moonlight, looking so fucked up. So destroyed.

“We did,” Abby issues stiffly.

“Good,” Maria says softly. “I think you can tell, how important that girl is to me. I want to…” She laughs bitterly. “I want to make sure she can never get away again, but… I trusted her before, and I trust her now. I have to. And if she trusts you two enough to travel across the country with you…”

The words hang, and the tension hangs in Abby.

“Then who am I not to?”

“You can trust us,” says Lev. The others look at him. “We only want to do the right thing. But this world can be cruel. It’s just what it means, to be alive in it.”

Abby didn’t expect _Lev_ to just show up like that. She looks at Maria, and the older woman is clearly taken aback. She issues a quiet laugh, turning to the side. “Well isn’t that about right.”

Maria walks back to her chair and sits down in it, looking somewhat tired. “That’s enough for now. You two go on. See Alvin downstairs about getting to Edna and Ortez.”

Abby stands up and nods. She half turns, and looks back at Maria. “Thank you so much.”

Maria thinks for a moment. “Get to it, and I’ll get to being thankful to you.”

* * *

Dina stirs the sauce again. Tomatoes aren’t too finicky, but she can’t let them burn. It’s cooking down and gaining some thickness. It’s pretty smooth, but with the chunks she and Dale love. The basil makes it smell heavenly. If only she could get JJ to appreciate it as much… Well, he likes buttered noodles well enough.

She looks over where he and Ellie are playing right now, in the living room. He’s fussing.

“What is it?” Ellie asks.

He babbles at her. She frowns in confusion. He holds up a wooden block.

“Oh, you want the blue ones? We can do that.” They fiddle with the blocks, and Ellie helps him construct a little blue structure. She reaches over for a wooden airplane that happens to be blue and puts in top. JJ smiles, and Dina can see sincere joy on Ellie’s face. It just about melts her heart.

Ellie’s so gentle and patient with him. And she’s learning to speak J quite quickly. In the end, she guesses, he’s luckier than most. He gets three parents.

It’s funny, because JJ had gone to pieces just like his mamas when they were first reunited by West gate, but he was the first one to go back to total normalcy. As soon as they got home and put him down, he went and started pushing on his toy box, looking at Ellie, as if they played together every day. For Dina, it was an adjustment. For Ellie…

It was like Dina’s dearest hope and worst fear at the same time when she embraced Ellie. She had been in such a bad way, it was obvious. Dina knows how Ellie can be when it comes to talking about feelings, so she’d been patient. Teased them out. When they started walking back home, Dina instantly and quietly assumed the role of caretaker. She rubbed Ellie’s back and let her hold JJ the whole way back. Her face was still a mess, having sloppily wiped the tears and snot away. The sadness pressed in at her eyes, but disappeared whenever she looked at little J. There were also the nervous glances around her, like she was still waiting for the other foot to drop. It wrenched Dina’s heart.

Dina had decided to just be what Ellie needed; pure and enduring love. She chatted casually at Ellie while they walked, giving her non-stop smiles until Ellie finally started smiling, too.

A quick and quiet conversation with Dale had brought him onto the same page. He immediately agreed to let Ellie stay with them for a while. He’d even readied the guest room for her.

And from there… If Ellie was a leaf, she’d been tossing around in windstorms for months. She’d been through hurricanes and blizzards, and now that she’s finally back in the calm, she just needed the time to drift down and land. And that’s what Dina was seeing to.

Ellie had had trouble the first night. She was good during dinner and she played with JJ until Dina could tell Ellie’s smile was wearing thin, and Dale stepped in so Ellie could go off to a dark room and cry bitterly while Dina held her hand and rubbed her back.

She’s got a lot more tears to cry, Dina’s pretty sure.

Ellie asked Dina to stay until she fell asleep. A stranger might think it was absurd, but there was no reluctance in Dina’s eyes, and no shame in Ellie’s asking. Dina ended up sleeping next to her, on top of the covers.

And so it had been, for the last few days. Ellie really seemed to be improving. That first night, when Ellie was changing in her room, Dina had poked her head in to ask if she had everything she needed. Ellie’s ribs were showing as bad as when they’d left Seattle. Dina knows she hadn’t been eating right.

But she keeps putting plates in front of Ellie, and they keep disappearing. Dina’s pretty sure Ellie knows she’d get scolded if she didn’t eat. Sometimes she gives Dina a look if it’s a bigger plate, though.

Dina doesn’t work, since JJ’s just a munchkin. So Ellie’s been kind of a godsend, too. She helps a ton with JJ, watching and playing with him. She’s even stayed up with him when he refused to go down. And while he’s napping, they’ve had a lot of bonding time.

There have been moments…

Some dishes had piled up and Dina was working on them while they talked.

“Let me see…” Dina considered. “I did an apple cobbler not long ago, that was great. Peach pie is my personal favorite, Dale picks one up from May now and then, to surprise me. I haven’t done berry since Winter, though."

“Seriously?” Ellie replied, folding laundry. “But berry pie is the best. Cobbler would be great, too.”

Dina gave her a look. “You wanna make me some, then?”

“But I thought baking was always your thing?”

“Psh, cause you didn’t want to do it yourself. You sure seemed to enjoy the results, though.”

“Yeah, I draw you pictures, and you bake me pies. Sounds like a deal.”

“The only pictures you would ever draw me were _of_ me.”

“Can’t think of a better subject.”

More than the words, it was the tone… It was familiar, from a different time. A nice time. A life-fulfilling time, bittersweet in retrospect. Dina could have imagined Ellie walking up behind her and putting her arms around her after saying something like that, maybe even kissing her neck.

And Ellie seemed to feel something similar, because she went quiet and when Dina looked, she was sheepish. Ellie looked up with eyes that wondered if they were gonna get in trouble. And if Dina looked a little deeper, the inner tumult pushed closer to the surface. The fear.

And that’s how it’s been delicate. How Dina has been very careful. She can’t spook Ellie away, that would be a terrible result. But she can’t give Ellie the wrong idea, either, and she doesn’t want her to shut down.

So Dina gave Ellie a look that didn’t admonish. It said _it’s fine. Don’t worry about it._

“If you really want a pie,” said Dina, “just mention it to Dale. Sweetheart honestly loves baking.”

“Adorable,” Ellie had replied.

Dina purses her lips. She knows that Ellie needs, and deserves, more than Dina can offer her anymore. There are moments of sexual tension. And she wants that for Ellie, for her to have someone. She really does. As long as it’s not Cat. She rolls her eyes at some of the memories that brings up.

The sauce is almost done. “Ellie, dinner’s gonna be ready soon.” Ellie looks up from where she’s playing with JJ, nodding. Dina can tell there’s something on her mind. She’ll press her on it after dinner.

Ellie had gone to see Abby and Lev on the first day, just to make sure they were alright. She was actually gone for hours. There had been tension there. Ellie was hesitant, but she said when she got back that night, she would explain everything.

It kind of pissed Dina off, in hindsight, because it amounted to her spending hours alone, wondering how the fuck, of all people, Ellie finally returned to Jackson with _those two_ in tow. And no Clint. Dina has one memory of them, and it’s one of the worst she’s got.

But when Ellie got back, she did explain. Over the course of an hour, just her and Ellie in the living room, Dina had melted into her couch. She’s not sure if Ellie realized it yet, but Dina sure did. It meant she needed to have a conversation with them, too. They weren’t going anywhere any time soon.

“Do you really feel like you can forgive her like that?” Dina had asked.

Ellie frowned. “You were the one that wanted me to let it go.”

“I know. I still am. I just… it was a lot. I saw it firsthand, Ellie. Don’t you remember?”

Ellie’s heavy eyes drifted to the floor, distant. She was sitting in the recliner, elbows on her knees. “Of course I remember. How it was for me, in Santa Barbara, the first time… It was hard to admit, but Abby was never the problem. It was Joel, and—“ She shuddered suddenly, frowning, not wanting to accept it. She cradled herself with her arms, rocking back and forth slightly.

Dina tensed up. Ellie’s pain was so obvious. Should she go over there and—

“It was Joel that was the problem,” Ellie finished quietly. “And lacking him.”

“Ellie,” Dina breathed. Ellie was right. Dina hadn’t realized how far she’d come with it. She wished she could have been there, now. Thinking about that, her stomach turned.

It was the first time since she left the farmhouse that she felt like she let Ellie down. Her brow furrowed, and she looked at the floor.

“After seeing Abby’s regret,” said Ellie, apparently unaware of Dina’s thought process, “it’s not that hard to forgive her. Which is a process, I think. I think I forgive her a little more all the time. The bad things she did…” Her brow pinched further. There was fearfulness, and hopelessness. She looked down at her lap and started picking at her fingernails. When she spoke, it was barely audible. “They’re the same things I did.”

“Ellie,” said Dina, and she did go over. On her knees, Dina took Ellie’s hands and found her eyes. “I just needed to hear it,” Dina said. “I just needed to know your feelings.”

Ellie didn’t say anything, she just nodded.

The house was quiet. JJ was still down.

“Do you want to start making lunch?” Dina asked.

Ellie nodded again. They stood up, and did the only thing they could; they carried on with the day. Whenever Ellie would start crying, always stuttering, reluctant at first, Dina would go over, pull her into an embrace, and just stay there until the tears stopped. Sometimes they wouldn’t even say anything afterward, just exchange a knowing look. Ellie’s of thanks, Dina’s of love.

There have been some raw moments. And there has been just as much tenderness. At one point, on the second or third day, Dale had said something about what they were doing.

“What?” Dina had asked him, surprised.

He looked over, a little unsure of himself. “I’m just saying, I can see how much work you guys are doing. Like you’re building a house, almost.”

It was thought provoking. A few seconds later, he spoke up again.

“Am I doing enough?”

When she looked, Dina could tell he was really asking, the angel. “Hmm,” she pretended to contemplate. She took his cheek in her hand. “Let me see…” She looked him over, and smiled. “Yep.” She leaned in for a kiss, and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Leave the rough stuff to me. You’re doing plenty.”

In the end, she had decided he was almost right. They weren’t building a house. They were rebuilding Ellie’s house, after all the storms.

Maria would check in, too. Usually by phone. They’d make short small talk, but she’d always ask after Ellie. And Dina would tell her. They’re getting there. She really doesn’t know how much Maria understands, but she seems to know a lot. Maria was satisfied with that answer.

Dina takes the sauce off heat and starts setting the table. Ellie walks in carrying JJ at chest height, facing in front of her. It brings up some strong memories and jerks Dina’s heart a little. She tries to hide it, but Ellie seems to notice.

“Where is that man I married?” Dina asks, avoiding the subject.

Dale comes trotting down the stairs a few moments later.

“Where have you been?” Dina asks him.

“Working on that thing you asked me,” he replies innocently.

Dina pauses. “What thing?”

“You know, your box.”

Dina recalls suddenly. “Did you finish it?”

“Yeah, it was just some light circuitry stuff.”

Now Dina is excited. “Oh my gosh! Can you get it?”

“Now?”

“Yes! I’ll make you a plate.”

Raising his brows, Dale turns around and trots back upstairs. He returns a few minutes later with a black-framed box with white plastic panels on the sides. He plugs it into the wall and places it on the table, where the girls are already eating.

“What’s that thing?” Ellie asks. She just finished chopping up JJ’s butter noodles into little pieces.

“A fancy lamp, basically,” says Dale. He clicks a button on the back, and it starts glowing bright white.

“Oh…” says Dina. “But you said…”

“Yeah,” he replies, “here, there’s a dial in the back.”

Dina sees what he’s talking about. She reaches out and turns it a little, and the light turns yellow. She gasps. She turns it further, and it turns orange, then red, then purple. “Look at that!” she exclaims, looking at JJ. The little angel’s eyes are fixated on it, fascinated. But Dina’s just giddy. She fiddles with it more, changing the colors around.

“I mean, that’s pretty cool,” says Ellie, looking amused, “is that all it does?”

“Basically,” says Dale. “There’s also this, though.” He flips a switch on the back, and it starts slowly changing colors on its own.

Dina gasps again. She looks at Dale. “Oh, I _love_ it.”

He smiles, blushing a little. “That’s all I need to hear.”

She gives him one of her looks that suggests how thankful she’s feeling, but she remembers that Ellie’s at the table. She glances over, and it’s pretty clear Ellie follows. _Shoot. Was that bad timing?_

Ellie scoops another little spoon of noodles into JJ’s mouth, made a little trickier by JJ’s fascination with the lights. She’s wearing a little smile, but Dina can’t read it.

The sauce came out wonderful; it’s Jesse’s mom’s recipe. But Dina spends much of dinner wanting to pick Ellie’s brain.

After dinner is done, Dale goes to start the dishes, but Dina stops him. “Can you look after J for a little bit? I want to talk to Ellie.”

“Sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think so. I just need to talk to her.”

“Sure thing, babe.”

Dina corners Ellie in the dim entry hallway. “Hey.”

Ellie acts a little surprised. “Hey.”

“I feel like something’s on your mind.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m telepathic. What’s up?”

Ellie sniffs, and scratches the back of her head. “Actually, I was gonna tell you that I’m thinking about heading back to my place.”

Dina’s gut tenses. “What?”

Ellie’s expression is casual. “I’m sure it’s covered in dust, but all my old stuff is still there. I talked to Maria.”

“When did you talk to her?”

“On the phone earlier. Is that against the rules?”

“No, of course not. I just… Like when?”

“I was thinking tonight.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“Ellie…” Dina bits her lip. She closes the distance between them. “Are you sure? It’s not too soon?”

Ellie chuckles. “Dina… you can’t take care of me for the rest of your life.”

“I mean, I could.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Dina, I’m fine.”

At that Dina tilts her head, with eyes that make it clear she doesn’t quite believe that.

“Alright, alright,” Ellie says. “But I can stay at my place.”

“Ellie, tell me it’s not because you feel like you’re intruding.”

“Of course I’m intruding!” Ellie replies, exasperated. Dina screws up her lips. “I saw that look you gave Dale earlier.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I think it does, because if it were me, it would matter.”

“Ellie—“

“Dina,” Ellie stops her. “It’s time.”

Dina crosses her arms, frowning.

“Oh my gosh, Dina, I’ll only be like five minutes away.”

“Yeah, I know. Okay, but you come right back if you need to, okay?”

Ellie nods casually, but Dina gives her a look that says _I’m serious_. “Okay,” Ellie says, “I will. Trust me…” Sadness touches her face again and her eyes go distant for a second. She shakes it off. “After all the time I spent wishing I could see you guys one last time, I’m not gonna waste any more opportunities, okay? Trust me.”

“Okay,” Dina replies, and it feels like enough.

Dale is surprised as well, but he handles it gracefully enough. JJ gets scared in no short order, though.

“Don’t go!” he says with all the drama of an almost three-year-old.

“Oh, J,” says Ellie, kneeling down where he stands clutching his mama’s fingers. “I’m not going far this time. I’ll just be a few blocks away.”

He frowns in confusion.

Ellie smiles. “It means I’ll see you soon. Maybe even tomorrow. I’m not going away like before. Not again.”

“Promise!” he implores her.

Ellie’s features soften.

_Never make him a promise you wouldn’t defend with your life._

Dina gut chills as the memory surfaces. The last time Ellie told him goodbye, and he had demanded a promise from her that she couldn’t make. And he had hit her, and the look that came over her afterward…

Dina fidgets, thinking how she should intervene.

But before she does anything else, Ellie smiles. She reaches down and takes JJ’s little hand in hers, shaking it. “I promise.”

After saying their goodbyes, Dale holds JJ while Dina walks Ellie to the front gate in the post-sunset darkness. Ellie opens the gate, but pauses, looking back at Dina. She thinks for a few seconds. “One last thing,” she starts. “The other thing, the thing you asked me to promise you last time.”

Dina frowns. She doesn’t recall asking Ellie for a promise. She’s about to ask when it hits her.

_Don’t ever lament what you had with me and JJ because thinking about it causes you pain._

Dina’s eyes widen. Ellie’s wearing the ghost of a smile. “I’m working on it.”

The gate creaks as Ellie lets go, and Dina watches her walk into the night.


	27. Hasty

Dina looks out the window over the sink, warm water running over the plate in her hand from breakfast. The Masons’ house blocks much of her view, but she can see the day is going to be bright and sunny. It’s really warmed up, halfway through June. Maybe they’ll take their daily long walk earlier, before it gets too hot. She smiles.

She focuses on the dishes she’s washing. Her smile recedes. She’s already thinking about Ellie. Last night was the first one she’d spent alone, in her ‘studio.’ Her leaving had felt sudden…

If Dina was being honest, there was some selfishness in her pleading with Ellie to stay. For Dina, having Ellie around was just… _more_. More work, yes, but more fun. More sadness… and more love. It felt like an expansion of her family. But for Ellie…

Ellie said she felt like she was intruding. It’s not like it wasn’t true, but Ellie’s well-being was more important than that right now. Quality time with Dale could wait another week. JJ was already preoccupied with looking for Ellie during breakfast. Dina had reminded him about Ellie’s promise. It had satisfied him, but he still had a little frown on his face. He’s especially fond of Ellie, and her him. It warms Dina’s heart.

What Ellie hadn’t said, but Dina is pretty sure of, is that being around Dina’s family reminded her of she was missing for herself.

Dina sighs. She’s about to grab another dish when the phone rings. She looks at the clock. It’s 8:01. She looks over at Dale in the living room, playing with JJ. He looks a question at her and she shakes her head. She dries her hands and picks up the phone.

“Hello?” she starts.

“Hey,” comes Ellie’s husky voice over the phone.

“That didn’t take long,” says Dina, shouldering the phone and resuming the dishes. “Sleep much?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno,” says Dina, “just thought it was interesting that you called the minute it was socially acceptable to do so.”

The line is quiet. Ellie sniffs. “You got me.”

“Sleep at all?” Dina asks, concerned.

“It’s nothing new, Dina.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?” she asks, walking over to the doorway to the living room. Dale is watching, concerned, but Dina shakes her head, quietly closing the door. She moves back to the sink. “Ellie, maybe you jumped the gun.”

“That’s not why I called, Dina, I’m fine.”

“Then why did you—“

“I’m just settling back into it,” interrupts Ellie. She sniffs again. “Jackson.”

“Jackson’s glad to hear it,” says Dina, brow pinched.

“Maria sure seems to be,” says Ellie. “She finally gave me one of those electric heaters like—“ She stops herself. “Anyway, last night was actually pretty comfortable. The lava lamp brings back good memories. It feels good.”

“That’s nice,” says Dina. “That’s really nice. So what are you gonna do today?”

“Um,” says Ellie. But she doesn’t continue.

“Are you picking at your fingernails again?” asks Dina.

“Damn it,” says Ellie. “You got me again. There’s someone I need to talk to…”

Dina frowns. “Well, I guess it’s not any of us.”

“No.”

“Despite that bomb you dropped right before you left.”

“I wouldn’t call that a bomb.”

“Well it’s had me thinking a lot.”

“Me, too. Did you ever think about what you were asking me for?”

Now Dina bites her lip. “I mean… I just felt like it needed to be said, I don’t know. I—“

“No,” says Ellie, “I think you were right. It’s just… this thing’s gonna take a while, okay?”

Dina is quiet for a few seconds. “Okay.”

“Thanks.”

“So who do you need to talk to? Maria?”

“Maybe, but that’s not who I’m thinking of.”

Dina frowns. Who’s left? “…Joel and Tommy?”

“Jesus!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“No,” says Ellie. Dina can practically see her pushing her fingers into her eyes. “No, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect that. It’s… um… it’s Maedlyn.”

Dina freezes. _What? Do they know each other?_ Dina doesn’t know Maedlyn that well, she came after Ellie left for Santa Barbara. What Dina does know is that she works for Guillermo, her mom is quiet the gossip, and she’s the prettiest new face in town. But pretty hard-to-get, apparently.

Dina looks back and forth, and things start to fall together in her mind. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“What… do you want to say to her?”

“I don’t want to go into detail… but at the very least I need to apologize for something. For breaking a promise.”

“A promise? Ellie—“ Dina puts down the plate with a clatter and nibbles at her thumb. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Dina!”

“I just—“

“Come on!”

“Well, I just don’t see why…” Dina laughs. “God, Ellie, you were only here for a couple weeks.”

“Part of the problem.”

“How serious was… I mean…” Dina laughs again. “I guess I just wonder why you’re telling me.”

“Starting to feel like a mistake.”

“It’s not,” Dina says, turning and leaning against the counter, still nibbling her thumb with a conspiratorial smile on her face. “Actually, that’s really juicy.”

“Well I’m glad—“

“No,” says Dina, more serious. “I’m glad. I didn’t… I didn’t know you had someone.”

“I don’t, really.”

“Well, sounds like maybe you might…”

Ellie sighs.

“What is it you want from me?” Dina asks.

“Well,” says Ellie, “since the cat is out of the bag, and I’m already embarrassed, even though I told you almost nothing, I guess… would it be ridiculous to ask for some advice?”

“Hmm,” says Dina. “No. Though you are keeping all the good stuff to yourself… I guess, if you’re asking, I’d say to do what you do best, and just be up front with her.”

“You think that’s what I do best?” Ellie is honestly surprised.

“When it matters, yeah.”

“That’s…” The line is quiet for several seconds. “Honestly kind of hard to believe, but thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Ellie yawns on the other end of the line. “Damn it, I’m tired.”

“Ellie?”

“Huh?”

“Will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Be up front with her?”

Sunlight streams in the dining area window, over the table she and Ellie had sat at so many months ago, when she had told Dina of her new _mission_. Now, they were having a conversation much more Dina’s speed. She loves it. She waits for Ellie to answer.

“I’ll try.”

* * *

Ellie paces up and down Edmonton Street. She keeps scratching the side of her head. She probably looks like an addict, but fortunately she doesn’t see many people. She thinks about going for it one more time, and one more time she decides against it.

She had gone to Maedlyn’s house and knocked on the door, but no one was home. Which left one place she was likely to be on a midmorning. Ellie just hadn’t summoned the guts to go in yet.

Shit. This is stupid. She’s spinning her tires. She needs to… she just needs to talk to someone, Dina hadn’t been enough. She decides to go see Clint. He’ll be useless for advice, but—

It hits her and her lower lip trembles. She brings her hands to her chest, and stops pacing. She feels a pulse in her chest, and all of the sudden this is way too big of an ask. She decides to go home, right now.

She turns around, and twenty feet away is a familiar face.

Lev is wearing a simple white t-shirt and some khaki chinos. He has a bulky satchel slung over his shoulder. He looks at her curiously.

“Hi there, Ellie.” He approaches her.

“Hey,” she says. She tries to sound casual but she’s not doing a very good job.

Lev is not as chipper as usual and he’s obviously picking up on her vibe. “Still wearing an overshirt? It’s gonna be pretty warm later today.”

“Yeah…” Ellie looks down. “Old habits, I guess.”

Lev nods. “Old habits, yeah.” He just looks at her for a few moments, but she doesn’t say anything. “Ellie, you look pretty stressed out.”

“I am,” she instantly confesses.

“Would you like to join me for a while?”

“I’d love that,” she replies honestly.

To her relief, he starts walking away from Guillermo’s and they start talking. He’s gotten his first official job: mailman. There’s not a ton of mail in Jackson, since you can probably just call whoever you want to talk to, but there’s a bit to do in the way of delivering notes and packages, both business and personal. He says he likes it a lot. It’s easy work, and he gets to chat with people all over town. He’s growing popular pretty quickly, Ellie surmises. Which makes sense, because it’s hard not to like him.

They chat idly for a while, but, like Lev does, he eventually cuts to the point.

“Do you want to talk about what’s stressing you out?” he asks.

“Eh…” Ellie scratches the side of her head again. She shoots him a look. “I guess, if it’s you. Can it be between us, for now?”

“Sure.” He frowns. “Only unless I think Abby should really know.”

A laugh escapes Ellie. “Abby wouldn’t…” She shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure Abby wouldn’t even want to know.”

“Okay…”

“Remember that girl?”

He frowns.

“My ‘someone special’ you asked about?”

Lev’s eyes go wide. This, it turns out, is his favorite topic. Which makes sense, given his age. “Oh, yes! Did you talk to her?”

“No, but I’m about to.”

“Oh. No wonder you’re nervous.”

“No kidding.”

“Do you want to tell me what you plan on saying?”

“Well, I… I don’t really rehearse, or anything. I know what I want to say, though. Or where I want to start, at least.” She rubs the back of her right hand with her left. “I told you she was upset that I was leaving Jackson.”

“That’s right.”

“But there’s something in particular, that I want to start by apologizing for. A promise I broke. I’m pretty sure I hurt her feelings.”

“Oh… that would be a good place to start.”

“Do you think she’ll forgive me?” Ellie knows he can’t possibly answer, but she has to ask.

“Mm,” he says, considering, “if it’s you, I suspect she might…”

Ellie smiles. “Thanks, Lev.”

They keep walking for a while, largely in silence, with short spurts of conversation. It’s really nice. Ellie gets it, actually. They’re just strolling around town, greeting familiar faces, enjoying the sights of Jackson. Not a whiff of a threat around them. Being a mailwoman wouldn’t be that bad.

And, as if decreed by fate, they find themselves walking right past Guillermo’s. Ellie stops, so Lev stops too.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Ellie gestures. “She’s in there.”

“Oh,” says Lev. “Are you going to go in?”

Ellie shakes some nerves out of her leg. “Seems like it.”

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

“Most definitely,” Ellie says. Before she has a chance to think about it, she climbs up the steps and pushes the door open.

Guillermo’s is a bit busy, actually. There’s someone at every table, and the air is full of chatter. Mexican music plays jauntily from Guillermo’s little stereo on the back counter. The multicolored lights are lit. It’s precisely the atmosphere she remembers.

And Maedlyn is standing maybe eight feet away, taking down notes on her pad from some people in the nearest booth. Ellie freezes up.

Maedlyn seems to be doing well. She looks almost like the first time Ellie saw her, only a little more… reserved? She’s wearing a light purple country dress with little polka dots that makes Ellie’s heart swell. Her hair is tied up perfect, red locks twisted up into an elegant, loose bun by the nape of her neck. Scarcely a strand escapes, just like she remembers.

“And with green salsa, you said?” says Maedlyn. She glances up at the newest visitor curiously, then she freezes too.

The moment carries on.

“Hey,” says Ellie.

Maedlyn stares in disbelief. She doesn’t seem inclined to respond.

“Uh…” This is awkward. Terrible, actually. “Do you have a second?” Ellie asks.

Maedlyn looks down and her brow pinches, masking her chagrin. Her mouth is hanging open slightly. She looks annoyed. She finishes the note on her pad.

Someone on Ellie’s side of the booth turns to look, curious. It’s Bobby Turner. He glances between them and puts on this annoying little smirk.

Maedlyn pretends not to notice, but her eye twitches subtly. “Actually, Ellie, I’m working right now.” She looks up with a civil but firm expression. “And we’re fairly busy.”

“Right,” says Ellie. In hindsight, it couldn’t be more obvious. This is a terrible place for that conversation. “Right. Of course. Later.”

Ellie should go, but she’s having trouble moving her legs. She just… she just wants it not to go this badly.

Maedlyn dangles one arm by her side casually. When Ellie doesn’t move, subtle anger spreads across Maedlyn’s face. She breaks the silence. “Later then?” she asks a little too loudly.

“Sure, yeah.” Ellie’s confidence is a ghost. She turns to go.

“Trouble in paradise?” she hears Bobby ask. Glancing over her shoulder, Ellie sees Maedlyn give him a wide-eyed, dangerous look that shuts him right the fuck up.

Ellie pushes through the saloon doors and descends the steps gingerly, a ringing in her ear and a coldness in her gut. She acts as natural as she can.

“How did it go?” Lev asks as she approaches.

“Really really bad, let’s get out of here.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” They immediately resume walking. A couple blocks away they pass by a Pearson Park.

Ellie gestures. “Can we?”

“Most definitely,” Lev replies.

This park is really quaint. Lots of green, open grass, dotted with big Elms that provide shade in the summer. Which of course is not top of mind for Ellie. There’s a bench under one of them. Ellie sits, and Lev follows suit.

“So…” he starts.

Ellie’s not looking at him, head in hand, covering her mouth. “That was so embarrassing.”

“Was she angry?”

“Yes, but—“ Ellie pulls her head out of her hand, picking at her nails determinedly. She’s so angry with herself. “She didn’t let me have it or anything. It was just obviously the wrong place.” She thinks. “I totally embarrassed her, too. Shit!”

“What was that place?” Lev asks.

“A restaurant. She’s a waitress there.”

“What’s a waitress?”

Ellie glances at him. She forgot how much of this is foreign to him. “They serve food there, for notes. She walks around and asks people what they want, and she gives their orders to the cook.”

“Oh,” says Lev, eyes widening in understanding. “So she was working.”

“Yeah.”

“Were there a lot of other people there?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Lev screws up his lips. “Probably not a good place for that conversation, then.”

“No,” says Ellie, burying her face in her hands. “No, not at all.”

“Um, well in hindsight she may see your intentions, and that you only made a mistake.”

“God…” says Ellie. “God, I hope so.”

“You really like her,” says Lev.

That catches Ellie by surprise. She looks at him. “Why do you say that?”

“Your body language,” says Lev. “That’s what Abby told me mainlanders call it. You are stressed out. I feel like you’re afraid you’re going to lose something important to you.”

Ellie is taken aback.

“Is she important to you?”

“I don’t—“ Ellie looks at him, confounded. “I don’t know… I want to say yes, but I mean, like, that’s ridiculous, right?”

“Why would that be ridiculous?”

“Cause I barely know her.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean, I basically spoke to her on two or three occasions.”

“That is a small number, it’s true,” says Lev. “Were they… meaningful?”

Ellie can feel her warm hip against her leg, as she lies on her loveseat. There’s a mug in her lap, and she’s giving Ellie this secret smile. Her eyes are so…

_You don’t know what you got, girl._

Ellie swallows.

“Then maybe she is important to you. Or maybe you feel like she could be.”

“She’s very special.” Ellie’s voice is dry.

“Then try again,” says Lev. “Probably not at that place, though.”

“Right.” Ellie sniffs. “How long do you think I should wait?”

“Honestly,” says Lev, “I’m not sure you need to wait at all.”

“Tonight, then?”

Lev nods.

Ellie swallows. She goes to speak but Lev speaks first.

“Do you want to have dinner at our place?” Lev asks.

“Honestly,” says Ellie, “I was just about to ask the same thing.”

Lev grins. “Abby will be glad.”

Ellie shoots him a look. “Really?”

“Well, she will act surly, but yes, she will. This transition is more difficult for her than me.”

“Have people been giving her trouble?”

Lev frowns, unsure. “Not for the most part, no. But some people have had trouble seeing past the reputation she held before we arrived. And Ellie—“ he looks at her, “can that stay between us?”

“For sure,” says Ellie. “Thanks for telling me. Maria told me you guys are under her protection. No one’s going to get away with giving her shit.”

“Perhaps not,” says Lev, “but that doesn’t change the way it feels.”

Ellie smiles. “You’re pretty smart for a kid, you know that?”

He punches her arm gently. “I’m not a kid.”

She ought to let him get back to work, but he shows no hurry. So they sit on that bench for a while, enjoying each other’s company.

* * *

Maedlyn has just finished the dishes, drying her hands in her favorite red patterned towel. She hangs it back up on the stove. The mushroom barley soup has come out better, but it wasn’t bad. Especially with a little black pepper. She’d have leftovers for days. And she has got to stop eating so much of Guillermo’s cuisine, or his prophecy of her future fatness would come to pass.

She sighs. She’s feeling… what? Restless? Anxious? Bored? Why obscure the truth, she’s feeling lonely, like she feels every day. She could go to her mother’s… that would be fine, but what she really wants is out of reach.

She looks over at the romance novel she started yesterday. The cover depicts a muscular man, far too many buttons loose, clutching a lovely blonde woman who’s leaning, maybe falling, desperate to hold on to her. She looks back at him with reservation, but the desire in both of their eyes is obvious.

The man is nothing like what she is looking for. But the look on the woman’s face… It’s about as close as she gets to the real thing, anymore. She’s not long on options, after all… and heaven help her if she ever decides to trust that Cat character, with no mind to her wavy blonde locks.

And, of course, Ellie drifts back into her mind. She feels a little surge of heat, but she’s tired of fuming. What had she been thinking, showing up at Guillermo’s like that? Putting Maedlyn up on a stage, in front of all those customers? Ellie…

Ellie does not get it, is what she does.

She might, if she had stuck around to get to know her better.

Maedlyn grabs the novel, drops it on the coffee table, and plunks down on her loveseat, head in hand. She stares at it, but doesn’t open it.

For a while, she thought about Ellie frequently, then less, and less… She had… dreadful thoughts about her, when she let herself. She was sure Ellie was never going to come back, so she tried to let her go.

And then Ellie came back.

Maedlyn couldn’t deny the thrill that had elicited when she first heard. It was from Guillermo. Bless that man, he had told her before opening, when it was just the two of them. He said it casual, like it was just another tidbit of news. He knew she wouldn’t want to be ‘on a stage,’ as she liked to think of it, when she found out.

But what did that mean? What she and Ellie had… so briefly, there had been promise… but Ellie made her decision.

Maedlyn makes a sound, between a grunt and a sigh. She picks up the novel, desiring distraction, when there’s a rap on her door.

She glances at the textured glass oval in the middle of it, and she can instantly tell who it is. She freezes for a second. _Already?_ She looks at the novel in her hand. It’s not smut, exactly, but the cover is… she puts on the table cover down, just in case.

She touches her hair in the necessary spots, and everything seems to be in place. She rises, walks to the door, and opens it.

Ellie’s hair is almost shoulder length, tucked behind her ears. She’s clean, and kempt. The late afternoon sun brings out the auburn of her hair. Maedlyn notices the little scar across her right eyebrow. She’d forgotten about that.

Ellie was the one who knocked, but she looks surprised. Her green eyes are bright, and wide. She looks like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands. She looks down for a second.

Maedlyn is about to say she didn’t expect to see her so soon when Ellie speaks up.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she says plainly.

Maedlyn works her lips. Subtlety is a talent of hers, and she abides well in it. And Ellie is so… _not_ subtle. There’s a swirl of emotions inside Maedlyn, and she’d like to keep it that way. Inside. “Ellie…” she can’t help but frown. “It’s fine. I accept your apology, can we just… step a little lighter?”

“Oh, uh… Yeah, sure.”

Maedlyn takes a breath. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Disappointment tinges Ellie’s features.

_No, you don’t get a ‘sugar.’_

“Well,” Ellie says, scratching the side of her head in that adorable way. “Crap, I may have lied.”

Maedlyn puts a hand on her hip. “About what, exactly?”

“Keeping it light.”

 _Oh, lord._ Maedlyn gestures helplessy. “So be it.”

“I mean… Someone told me I should be honest, about this.”

Maedlyn’s brow pinches. _She sought advice for this?_ “Go on.”

“I want to apologize—“ Ellie stops abruptly. “I’m just, I’m only hesitating because I know it’s a big deal. And I want you to know that. I don’t know if I waited too long, to… or not long enough. I know I’m rambling, I just, I knew I had to come here to apologize for—“

“That sunset,” Maedlyn finishes.

Ellie’s face is scared and relieved at the same time. “Yeah.”

Maedlyn nods subtly, looking down. That is definitely not ‘light’ territory. It had been fairly satisfying to see Ellie squirm a little. And she’s obviously earnest. But that’s… so suddenly? Maedlyn was just about to…

Maedlyn takes another breath. “It may as well be now.” She doesn’t explain, she leaves the door cracked and then dons her shoes. She’s absently grateful for choosing one of her best dresses today, the light purple one with white polka dots and collar.

When she opens the door again, Ellie is clearly unsure. Did she think she was invited in? Maedlyn forgot how much she enjoyed Ellie’s obviousness.

“Well?” says Maedlyn, standing on the threshold. Ellie clearly doesn’t understand. Maedlyn gestures to the stairs. “Do you mind?”

Ellie starts and begins climbing down the stairs, she slows and glances over her shoulder halfway, to make sure Maedlyn is following. Maedlyn cannot help but smile for a second. She had forgotten…

She had forgotten _Ellie._

Ellie waits in the road and Maedlyn passes her, leading wordlessly. It’s a five minute walk to Hansen Manor, and Ellie allows it to pass in silence. They arrive at the gate. Maedlyn glances, and Ellie is looking up at the manor with the wary beginnings of understanding. Maedlyn tries the gate, but it’s barred. She sighs, offering a frustrated gesture.

“Can you open this or something?”

Ellie’s a little surprised. She nods, and moves to the fence, grabbing the upper bars. She climbs it and hops nimbly to the other side. She pulls a bar from the gate, and holds it open for Maedlyn.

“Thank you,” she says as she passes through. She leads Ellie around the side of the manor and through a short archway tunnel into the inner courtyard. It’s Summer, and the bright, waxy green leaves of the magnolia tree are lustrous, but the cherry red blossoms won’t arrive until Winter.

She stands there for a minute, gazing at it, not wanting to offer it up freely. “Do you know why I picked it?” she asks.

Ellie is running her hands nervously over her hips. She looks up at it. It’s warm, by this time of day, and Ellie is wearing an unbuttoned overshirt. There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin, which is, if anything, an enhancement.

“It was Winter, so… the blossoms?” says Ellie.

Maedlyn appreciates that she figured that. “Do you remember what they look like?”

“Hard to forget,” says Ellie. “They’re like, um… they’re pink and white, kind of like little beetle wings.”

 _What?_ Maedlyn screws up her face.

“You know, how they lift their carapace and spread their wings? It’s cool. That’s what they make me think of.”

Not… a comparison Maedlyn would have ever made, but it manages to get a chuckle out of her. “I believe you do have the image. Most trees don’t blossom in Winter. I thought it made a nice symbol.”

Ellie frowns, and before she can say anything further, Maedlyn walks over to the bushes at the edge of the courtyard. She had not been looking forward to this part.

She squats down in front of the bush she’s pretty sure is right. It had been Winter then… there’s a lot of new growth, grass, and such. There had better not be a bunch of bugs, or she would make Ellie dig for it.

Ellie’s behind her, watching. “Maedlyn?” she says.

Maedlyn doesn’t bother responding. Her hands are getting dirty, but there’s nothing for it. She pushes aside another bush twig, and her fingers find what they’ve been looking for. She grabs it and stands up.

The pistol grip is dirty, and tarnished. The polish on the wood had all been removed by the elements. The wood is dry, the coloring patchy. The brass inlay is still there, but it now rises from the wood, just slightly. There’s rust on the screws, and dirt caked into the openings on top and bottom.

With that, she turns, hands it to Ellie, and waits.

Ellie takes it. She immediately recognizes what it is, that’s obvious. She turns it over, appraising it. She looks back at Maedlyn, but her face is a mask. She is not going to help Ellie get it.

Ellie frowns. “How did you know it was there?”

Maedlyn stares back.

Ellie’s eyes widen. She looks back at the Magnolia tree, then at the pistol grip in her hands. Maedlyn can practically read her mind.

 _And I_ might _, just have a present for you._

A present that Maedlyn had just dug up from some untended bushes, where it had been discarded, as if it were trash.

Ellie’s features go slack and the color drains from her face.

“Yeah,” says Maedlyn, “that one hurt, Ellie.”

“I am so, fucking, sorry,” says Ellie, and Maedlyn can tell it’s coming straight from the heart.

Maedlyn turns to the side, finally letting some of what she’s feeling show on her face. She crosses her arms over her belly.

“I—“ Ellie starts.

“I was sure I’d never see you again,” says Maedlyn quietly. “I was sure you would die out there.”

“I…”

Maedlyn smirks unhappily. “What? You didn’t?”

Ellie’s mouth is open, she shakes her head, looking for words. When she speaks, it’s quiet, and powerful. “I had to do it.”

Maedlyn’s mouth twists. She looks down at the overgrown cobbles. “Did you do it?”

“Did I do what?”

“Did you make the cure?”

Ellie is taken aback. “I… didn’t do anything. I let them poke me with needles. Dr. Watanabe and Ikeda made the cure. They named it after me, though.”

Ellie is not a liar. Or at least, she is not lying right now. “How does it work?” Maedlyn asks.

“Um…” It’s not the conversation Ellie expected. “It’s two sided. There’s amphotericin B, to fight the fungus, and immunoglobulin E, to teach the body how to beat cordyceps. You get both. And it has to be within 24 hours of infection. After that, if it takes, you’re immune.”

“How likely is it to take?”

Ellie shrugs, as if it were an impossible question. “They couldn’t test it. They only let me go because a local came in after getting bit, and he survived. Not only that, he was immune, so they didn’t need me anymore.”

“How much did they make?”

That also doesn’t make sense to Ellie. “They’re never going to stop making it, until cordyceps is extinct. That’s the plan. Eventually they plan to export it all over the world. It’ll take a long time, though.”

Maedlyn is feeling distinctly off balance, and a little light headed. She releases a breath. “Well that there is downright incredible, Ellie.”

“We couldn’t have been happy,” Ellie says suddenly.

Maedlyn freezes. A gust of wind rolls through the courtyard. Her voice comes out tight. “What did you just say?”

“We couldn’t have been happy.” Suddenly, Ellie seems so sure of herself. Her brow is pinched, she’s delivering it like hard news. “This was my purpose. This was… my everything. If I had tried to let it go, and just stay here, with you, and with everyone, I could never have been truly happy. I would always know… I’d let this thing, this all important thing slip away.”

Maedlyn’s breaths are shallow.

“It would have slowly crushed me.”

Maedlyn swallows. “And what about now?”

Ellie’s surprised. She searches about with her eyes. “Do you even still…?”

Maedlyn has no intention of giving it up that easily. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Ellie breathes. Her eyes are… Maedlyn feels about ready to break in half under those eyes right now, but she is giving it her everything not to show it.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” she says, “for saying that. But that’s... not really—“

“Stepping light,” Ellie finishes.

“No,” Maedlyn says, with a little smile. “That’s yours. I don’t know if it can be restored, but please keep it. I was just going to my mother’s, actually. I’ll be on my way.”

“Can I walk you?” Ellie asks.

“No, but thank you, Ellie.” Maedlyn turns and moves partway across the courtyard. She stops and half turns. “And thank you for being present for this. I’m relieved.”

“You’re so welcome,” says Ellie.

Her longing is so obvious. It’s making it hard for Maedlyn to hide. So she gives Ellie a little smile, just as she’s turning away, and she leaves the courtyard, before she finds herself doing something hasty.


	28. Hard as it Needs to Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew this one was coming, but not how it would play out. But I love how it did. Hope you enjoy it, too.

Dina strolls down Lauder Street casually, taking her time. It’s about midday, and already warm, but the sun is bright and several of the stores on this street have hung up jars and vases of flowers in front of the buildings. Probably because Heather’s flower shop is on the corner. It had inspired Dina, so she bought a bouquet and laid it on top of the basket of fruits she was bringing home.

It’s extra Summery, Dina decides. She knows she’s being whimsical, and she loves it.

She thinks of Ellie and feels guilty for a second. Dina’s life is really good these days, but even though she’s back in Jackson, Ellie’s only halfway there. If that. Tonight will be the third day since Dina saw Ellie. She chews her lip. It could be a good sign, but she should invite her over for dinner, just in case. Remind her she’s welcome.

JJ is with his grandparents. She drops him off pretty regularly there. When he was a baby, she was almost afraid to do it. Now she’s relieved every time. She loves that guy with all her heart, but little boys, it turns out, will take everything they can get from their mothers. It’s nice to have a few hours to herself. Hence her taking her time.

Even old Reginald hung up a vase of different color roses in front of his gun shop. Old man likes to act salty, but Dina had seen him with his granddaughter at the playground. Everyone has a soft side, she decides.

Right as she’s passing his shop, someone comes out the front door. They turn, surprised to see Dina, and when Dina sees who it is, the Summery feeling evaporates.

Abby’s got a sack hanging on one arm, and she’s clutching a cloth-wrapped bundle in the other. Her eyes are wide, lips parted slightly to show her lower teeth, but other than that, her face is blank.

Dina lingers for a few seconds, but she’s still the first to recover. “Abby,” she says simply. “I heard you were in town.”

“Yeah,” Abby replies ineloquently.

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you.”

For such an intimidating presence, it’s really easy to tell when Abby is nervous. “Yeah…” She glances around. “Yeah, we probably should.”

“Is now a good time?”

“Time?” Abby seems confused, distracted. “Uh… now is fine, but… can we talk somewhere less… exposed?”

Dina considers her. “Sure, over here.” Dina leads Abby to the alley right next to Reginald’s. It’s fairly clean, shaded from the sun, and almost never gets foot traffic. She stops a few feet inside.

Abby has followed her, but she actually seems scared. Dina had actually wondered for an instant if it was safe to be alone with Abby. This is not the reaction she would have expected. She was worried they would end up yelling at each other, but that feels unlikely at the moment. She wants to know what Abby is thinking. She starts light.

“So you came to town with Ellie, and the boy, right?” Dina asks.

“Lev, yeah. Did Ellie tell you everything?”

“Well, I don’t think Ellie ever really tells me _everything_ , but she told me about her journey to Catalina, and Sacramento, and how you all came back here together. I—”

Dina stops, because something passes Abby’s face and she looks away.

“What is it?”

Abby’s brow is knitted. She looks at Dina. Her cheek pinches slightly. “I’m not sure how Ellie told it to you…” She looks at the ground and cocks her head. “And I know I thought about how it could have gone differently. What I could have done differently.” She starts to grimace and then seems to make a decision. “But we really couldn’t have seen it coming. With Clint. Was just—“ She winces again. “Was just bad.”

Dina is taken aback. She’s scarcely been thinking of him. And what she hadn’t expected; Abby obviously cares, that he died. Thinking about it again, it makes sense… she would have gotten to know him—

“I was surprised, too, when Ellie said we could come with her to Jackson.”

Dina snaps out of it. “Why did you want to?”

Abby frowns, hesitant. “Honestly, it’s about Lev. It’s Lev.”

“What about Lev?”

“It sounded like somewhere he could be happy.” A dark feeling passes over Abby’s face, recoil at something ugly. “What happened, with his family… I had to do something. I have to watch out for him.”

“Okay,” says Dina. “I accept that.”

Abby takes a breath. She seems to be summoning willpower. “Are you alright with us being here?”

Dina retracts her head. That was direct. Well, if Abby is going to be forthright. “I guess I’m working on that part.”

There’s chagrin on Abby’s face, but she starts nodding. Dina may as well say it.

“Abby, I believe the last time we saw each other, we were trying to kill each other.”

Abby actually winces and looks away, a haunted look coming over her.

“But listen.” Abby looks up as Dina continues. “Let’s put words to it, we were both defending ourselves, and I was defending Ellie. I came to—“ Now it’s Dina’s turn to screw up her face. There’s still shame, down there. She speaks up, quieter. “I came to Seattle with Ellie to kill you. I agreed to that. But I never really wanted to.”

Abby stares.

“And I guess in the end, Ellie didn’t either.”

Abby’s look lingers. Dina senses understanding. Still, Abby’s eyes find the ground. “Doesn’t excuse what I did.”

“Yes, but you were defending yourself.” It doesn’t feel good to say, but it was true. That was only being fair.

Abby meets her eyes again, incredulous. “That’s not what I meant.”

Dina tries to piece that out but it doesn’t make sense. “What do you mean?”

“I was talking about after I knocked you out.”

Now Dina stares. “What?”

Abby’s confused for a second, then her eyes go wide. “Ellie never told you.”

Dina frowns. “What happened after you knocked me out?”

Abby goes pale and half turns. She’s so scared. Dina’s starting to get scared, too. What had Ellie hidden from her?

Abby puts the bundle under her other arm and runs her fingers over her lips. “Shit,” she mutters. “I was just—“ She shuffles her feet. “I wasn’t—“ She cuts herself off again and this time turns all the way around. Her shoulders are hunched.

Dina’s a little freaked out. It must be really bad, but Abby is right, whatever she’s talking about, Ellie never said one word about it to Dina. Ellie just said Abby told her she never wanted to see her again and left with the kid.

“There’s not going to be a good way to say it,” Abby says. Her voice sounds heavy. She turns around. The look in her eyes sinks right into Dina’s gut.

“You remember, right? That Winter was… was really hard. Frankly, I wasn’t in a good place before Ellie showed up.” Abby’s eyes search the ground, remembering. “Then all my friends started dying.

“I was at the battle, on the island.” She looks at Dina. “Which, you probably don’t even know about that, but it was hell. I got back to the aquarium, and found Owen and Mel in pools of their own blood.” She looks up, and Dina realizes she’s looking for confirmation.

Dina nods sharply. “Yeah. I know.”

“I found a map there, that Ellie had lost. I followed it to the theater. I wasn’t thinking. I knew there was going to be blood and I didn’t care. I felt like—“ Abby flexes her arm. “I felt like I was in the right, almost like—“ She turns her head sharply. She grits her teeth, and continues. “Then we started fighting, and it all came out. I hated Ellie so much. I’ve never been so angry in my life. I wasn’t ready, after Mel…”

Dina doesn’t know what’s going through Abby’s mind but she’s almost unaware of her. Her face contorts in some kind of anguish.

“I just wanted to hurt her,” Abby continues, voice breaking, “I just wanted to hurt her as badly as I could. So I… after you were unconscious I took you and I put my knife to your throat.” The burning anger Dina had started to sense is turning into something else. Something that is burning Abby, inside. “I put my knife on your throat in front of Ellie. That’s when she told me, you were pregnant, like Mel. And I,” she stumbles but she forces herself to continue, “I was going to do it anyway.”

Every muscle in Dina’s body is taut. “Then why am I still alive?” Dina’s voice sounds distant to herself.

“Because Lev stopped me, thank God. Because he’s better like that. Always better. And I came back to my senses. And I put you down and told Ellie I never wanted to see her again, and we left.” Abby’s more or less held it together, but she’s breathing fast. “That’s what happened.”

Dina feels off balance. She’s feels dizzy. She can’t stop thinking about JJ. His face is front and center in her mind. It wasn’t until the next day, shoulder bandaged in bed, Tommy a few feet away, Ellie tending to her, and hours after that, that she had rubbed her belly and realized she had put the baby in danger.

“And I _am_ sorry,” says Abby. “I guess that’s all I can say. Sometimes I think about Ellie, and the fact that Mel—“ She stops herself, thinking it over, she shakes her head. “And I’m glad I didn’t. And I’m just sorry. That’s it.”

Suddenly, it’s easy to understand why Abby had been so scared. Dina should forgive her, probably. Is that right? She can’t really think straight.

“Abby, would you like to come by my place at three?” Dina finds herself saying.

Abby’s nonplussed. “What?”

“Not for dinner, or anything, just for a visit.” It starts to fall together in Dina’s mind. “You should bring Lev.”

“Uh… I…” Abby’s incredulous, but she seems to sense that it matters. “I suppose. We can come. Will Ellie be there?”

“She doesn’t need to be.”

“Can she be?”

That Dina did not expect. She thinks for half a second. “Sure. I’ll see you then.”

With that, Dina walks around Abby and out of the alley. She’s aware that that was downright strange, but she doesn’t know how else to be right now and really she needs space to think about what just happened.

She walks past Parker’s leather shop. The roses she’s hung are yellow.

* * *

Abby shifts her weight again, rubbing her pant leg. Dina’s street is one of the ones with dirt roads. Sand blows around in the wind now and then. It’s pretty much deserted at the moment, but for her and Lev.

“We’ll be late pretty soon, Abby,” says Lev. “It might be three right now.”

“I don’t think that’s the main concern.” They’re standing just on the other side of a fence from Dina’s house, a few more steps and they’ll be visible.

“I understand that you’re nervous, but this doesn’t need to go badly,” says Lev. He’s wearing the nicest button up shirt he’d gotten since they came to town, and some shorts. Looking cute, as always. “When Dina invited you earlier, did you get sinister vibes?”

“What?” Abby asks. “Sinister? No, it was just… I told you, Lev, it was just _weird_.”

“This whole thing is kind of weird, but that doesn’t make it impossible.”

“It’s a lot, for one day.”

“It is, but that doesn’t make it impossible.”

“Okay, but _you_ are.” Finally, Abby gathers her nerves and walks out around the fence.

Dina hadn’t give her address, so Abby had asked Fred at the candy store. He was right, her door is really salmon pink. Abby climbs a couple white painted wooden steps onto the porch, then knocks on the door. Ellie answers it.

“Took you long enough. Dale almost ate all the cookies.”

“To that, I object,” comes a voice from in the house. “And I _baked_ the cookies, so…”

“Have any trouble finding it?” Ellie asks. Abby can tell she’s trying to settle the mood, and she’s thankful.

“Hard to miss,” Abby says, gesturing to the door as she steps in.

“Yeah,” says Ellie, “trust me, if _I_ lived here…” She makes a _no way_ face at Lev, who smiles. The smile disappears pretty quick, though. Abby can tell he’s nervous, too.

A blonde man walks into the entry area. He thrusts his hand out to Abby. “Dale.” It’s a little silly.

Abby shakes his hand. “Abby.”

“Lev.”

“I’m sorry, you said Lev? I’ve never met a Lev.”

“It’s short for Levijah.”

“Wow, that’s a great name.”

Dina walks in from the kitchen. Whatever she’s feeling, she’s wearing a smile. “Thanks for coming. Sweetie, can you sit everyone in the living room? Tea’s almost ready.”

“Sure,” Dale replies.

“Abby,” Dina says while the others move to the other room.

Abby looks up with apprehension. Dina approaches until she’s close.

“First thing’s first,” she says. Her eyes are sober. “I forgive you. I just needed some time to think about everything. I know that stuff wasn’t easy to say.”

“Okay,” says Abby, voice dry. “Thank you.”

“Come here for a second.” Abby follows Dina into the kitchen. There’s a tray with tea cups and cookies. “Can you take this to the others?” Abby nods and picks up the tray, feeling a little absurd. “And can you send Lev in here?”

Abby looks up sharply.

Dina reads her for a second. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to be rough with him. You know we need to talk, too.”

“Right,” says Abby.

She sets the tray down on the coffee table. Dina’s house is kind of idyllic. It’s like Jackson. Weird.

They’re already talking about Lev’s new job.

“And Mrs. Downy invites me in for tea every day. And I would, but on the first day I was late and I got in trouble.”

“Well yeah, your boss is Ortez,” says Ellie, eating some kind of cookie. “Guy’s annal about, what’s the word, punctuality, or whatever."

“Yes, but—“ Lev starts.

“Lev.” He looks Abby’s way and she gestures with her head into the kitchen.

He perks up. “Oh… excuse me.” He gets up and walks out of the room.

Abby’s eyes follow him out of the room. From her seat, she can just see a slice of the kitchen around the corner. Dina turns around from the sink at Lev’s arrival. She has a considering look.

“Abby?” says Ellie.

Abby makes a renewed effort to act something like normal, and picks up a cup of tea. It’s nice, dark blue ceramic, but it’s chipped.

“So Abby,” says Dale. “You were a Firefly, right? I gotta ask now, Dina doesn’t like war stories and the like too much.”

“So you gotta ask now?” Ellie replies with a little smirk. “Don’t want to get in trouble?”

Dale gives her a look. “Look, a wise man knows to keep his wife happy.”

“Whoa, seriously, Dale?” says Ellie, giving Abby a look like that was unexpected.

Abby looks again to see Dina gesture to her shoulder, where Lev’s arrow had struck. Lev starts gesticulating in response.

“What?” replies Dale. “Oh, come on, Ellie, I’m not talking about that.”

Abby half smiles. “My dad used to say the same thing.” She swirls her tea. “A long time ago.”

Ellie picks up her own glass of tea. She’s still smiling, but her eyes tell a different story.

“Was your dad a Firefly, too?” Dale asks.

The last of Ellie’s smile disappears.

“He was,” says Abby. “He was killed during a misunderstanding. Mom died when I was young.”

Ellie’s eyes find Abby’s, showing quiet relief and thanks.

“Oh,” says Dale, his sails slackening. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” says Abby. “It was like that for a lot of us there. We’ve all been through it. Shit, I’m sure you know. No one gets off scot free, not in this world.”

“For now,” Ellie says quietly. Dale doesn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah… I bet there’s a lot of camaraderie, in that.”

“Cama—“ Abby could almost laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Dina’s close to Lev now, looking down at him. She’s not angry, just serious. She says something quietly and Abby can read her lips.

_She said you’re the one who stopped her._

“You know,” says Dale, “I always admired the Fireflies. It’s like, it’s like there was one group of people who were doing the only right thing they could. In spite of all odds, and opposition. I never understood why so many people hated them.”

“Cause we’re terrorists, remember? Revolutionaries, hostile militants, whatever nonsense FEDRA is spewing that week. FEDRA made us an enemy because we refused to be controlled.”

Dale nods. “That’s about right. I spent twelve years in Sioux City, under FEDRA.”

“Miss it much?”

“Never,” Dale replies. “So what’s it like in the Fireflies?”

“Not so bad,” Abby says. “Lot of work. It’s military, you get used to orders. It can be tough, lots of rules. _Not_ ,” she emphasizes to Ellie, “like the WLF, though. It’s an idealist organization. If at any point it had come under the leadership of…” Abby gestures. “ _Not_ an idealist, it could have gotten bad, but it never did.” She looks up at Ellie. “And wouldn’t you know it, a quarter century and a lot of fighting later, we made a cure.”

“Yeah,” Dale looks excited, but it’s muted by something. “That’s so wild. I remember when Ellie told us she was going, Dina didn’t want her to. Dangerous, I mean, she wasn’t wrong. But something like a _cure?_ I took Ellie’s side, remember that?”

Ellie shakes her head, smiling. “I remember.”

There’s movement in the corner of her eye, and Abby looks over to see Lev climbing the stairs behind Dina. He smiles at her, bringing relief. _Where are they going?_

“How long will it take to get here?” says Dale. “Ellie said they’re pumping it out, right?”

Trying not to think about Lev for a second, Abby thinks. “Essentially, but it’s impossible to say. They’ve got to transport it, which is tricky on its own, since it can’t get too warm. Months at least, until Jackson sees any, probably.” An idea pops into her mind. “Actually, Ellie, I was thinking about that. What do you think about talking to Maria about sending a truck up their way? Could get it a lot faster that way, probably. You need some kind of refrigeration, though—“

“Look who’s awake!” comes Dina’s voice. Abby turns to see Lev taking the last step of the stairs into the room, carrying a three year old boy. “He just woke up, but he’s winding up pretty quick.”

Lev bounces him on his hip, obviously loving it. The little boy has a fist in one of his eyes, rubbing away the sleep. He stares at Lev’s face with fascination.

Abby’s gut is cold, limbs stiff.

“What is his name again?” says Lev.

“JJ,” says Dina. She looks up at Abby. There’s no anger in her eyes, no spite, no hatred. Just meaning. But when she meets Abby’s eyes, they change. Surprise, then concern tinges her features.

“He is very heavy,” says Lev to JJ. “I would say he is at least three years old!”

JJ smiles. He reaches out and starts grabbing at Lev’s face.

Lev pretends to be confounded. “No! That’s _my_ face!”

“JJ,” says Dina in a motherly tone, shooting glances at Abby, “don’t grab, now, come on.”

“Abs?” It’s Ellie’s voice. She’s wearing a smile at the performance, but her eyes are narrowed. She makes a subtle pushing-down gesture, as if to say _it’s alright, chill out._

“I’m not really good with…” Abby mumbles.

“But I’m not the only new person!” says Lev. He looks down. “Look, Abby’s here, too!”

Distracted, JJ looks down and finds Abby’s face, his fascination renewed. Now that Lev is looking at her, he looks concerned, too. JJ reaches out for her.

Abby stands up automatically, not sure what to do.

“It’s alright,” says Dina, “you don’t have to hold him or anything. He just likes seeing new faces.”

Abby nods uncomfortably.

Lev walks closer so that Abby is within JJ’s reach. He holds his hand up by her face, making grabbing gestures but not touching her. He looks round her face in wonder.

Wailin was the same age, back in Seattle. Abby never worked with kids, but she saw him around. She liked him. He had big moppy blonde hair. JJ’s hair is jet black, long and wavy. His eyes are dark, too. His skin is smooth, smoother than anything. He’s beautiful.

JJ notices something down by her neck. He reaches and grabs the chain around it. He lifts her dad’s dog tag out of her shirt and pulls it toward him, yanking the chain around the back of her neck.

“JJ, let go of that!” says Dina, but JJ pays her no mind. He seems to like the way it shines. He lifts it in the air, pulling her again. As it turns in the light, she can see _Anderson, Jerry_ stamped into it.

“Help,” is all she can manage.

Ellie stands up but Dina moves the fastest. “JJ, you need to let go.” The chain is wrapped around his little fist. He looks at his mom, frowning at the interruption. Dina’s hands are on the chain, trying to untwine it from his grip.

Abby’s right hand is shaking. She keeps seeing her dad, hearing her dad. Then he’s on the operating room floor in a pool of blood. Then she’s with Joel. All she can hear is screaming. Then Mel is calling her a piece of shit from the blood soaked ground.

“JJ, let go. You need to let go!” Dina is becoming more frantic.

“No!” he cries defiantly.

“Abby,” says Ellie, “it’s alright, he just doesn’t get personal space.”

Lev is nervous too. He’s holding JJ but he can’t do anything. If this keeps up any longer, Abby is going to start crying, or flip out.

She can feel how tightly she gripped Dina’s ponytail in her hand, and the way the cold steel pressed against her throat.

Finally, mercifully, Dina is able to pull the chain out of the grip of his little hand, and Abby is free.

“I’m sorry,” she manages, “I have to go.”

She moves around the others in the room and goes straight for the door, not even waiting for Lev.

“Abby, hold on!” says Ellie.

Abby pushes out of the door and strides out into the street. Thank God, no one is around.

She starts walking, and she doesn’t stop for some time. It helps a lot. She focuses on her breathing and the tumult starts to recede. A few people glance her way, but she’s left alone. It’s Friday and the atmosphere of the city is lively. People will start gathering down at the saloons soon. The sun is dipping and the light is more orange now.

She can’t stay out here forever. Just a bit longer. She enters an alley, not really going anywhere, just walking. Lev’s probably going to be mad, she—

“Abby.”

She stops and turns around. Ellie’s there. “You followed me this whole time?”

“Yeah.” Ellie walks up to her, casual. “That was a lot, huh?”

“Are you kidding?” Abby turns around again, putting a hand on her forehead. “Look, I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“Dina wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. She felt like it would, I don’t know, close everything up.”

Abby takes a deep breath. “Feels more like it opened everything up.”

“Look, she forgave you, right? That’s important. And JJ, JJ doesn’t need to forgive you. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t need to. You were just a new face to him.”

“I know,” says Abby.

“So they’re past it, then,” says Ellie. “Can’t you be?”

“Can’t I be?” Abby asks. There’s a flare of anger, of all things. What, she’s dismissing it? Open and shut? Did she forget, what that day was like? What they had done to each other? What Abby had done? Abby clenches her teeth. “Can’t I be?” She turns on Ellie, stabbing a finger at her. “Ellie, you’re talking to the kind of person who could—“

The words die in her mouth. She stabs her finger one more time. Her face changes, then she pulls her hand back, stiffly. She looks to the side.

Ellie’s standing a few feet away, playing with her fingers slowly. Her eyes have a distant look, suddenly.

Abby knows she has to say something. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“Right,” says Ellie quietly.

“Ellie…” Abby struggles for words. “Look, it goes both ways, right? Right? You were defending yourself. Mel could have killed you. She could have.”

Ellie nods, looking far away. It… it actually hurts Abby, to see Ellie like that.

“You didn’t _know_ , Ellie.” She really wants her to believe it.

“The second time, I knew.”

Confused at first, a spasm goes across Abby’s features. “What?”

“With Jenna.” Ellie sniffs. “I knew. But I killed her anyway.”

Abby doesn’t know who she’s talking about. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” says Ellie, as if upbeat, almost. Like they were talking about the menu at the caf today. “But she was bit, so. It was different, I guess.”

Ellie plays with her fingers more nervously, wearing a thousand yard stare.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she finishes quietly.

Abby watches Ellie. Standing there, playing with her remaining fingers. Shrinking. Burning. Slowly being destroyed. Abby sees her, and she knows her, and she hates it, but it’s true.

Abby walks forward until Ellie is only a foot away. Ellie looks up, with fear in her eyes, as if ready for a long-awaited retribution.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” says Abby.

She reaches up, and gently, but firmly, pulls Ellie into an embrace. The smaller girl doesn’t move her arms, doesn’t react, she just allows it. Her head rests against Abby’s collarbone. They take two breaths together. And then, Abby lets go, and Ellie rocks back on her feet. Ellie doesn’t look at her, she’s just staring into the distance. With that, Abby turns, and walks away.

At the end of the alley, Abby glances over her shoulder to see Ellie turning around, looking dazed.

Abby looks up, and sees a sign. _Edmonton Street._ She realizes where she is, and how to get home. Like a real Jacksonian. Lev might be waiting already.

Abby brushes a strand of hair out of her eye, and keeps walking.


	29. Reminder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever wonder why I had to put something sad in the story. If you’ve ever thought, ‘but why this? Was this really necessary?’ It’s not a science, but there’s a reason for it. We’re getting close to the end now.
> 
> Enjoy.

Ellie strolls onto Cornwell Street, where the fresh food stalls are set up every day. It’s not even ten yet, the unofficial opening time, and several stalls are still being loaded for the day. She’s early, but it’s for a reason. She likes to keep herself occupied these days. It helps. So she’d spent a few hours cleaning Joel’s place.

Maria told her it was hers if she wanted it, and Ellie didn’t want anyone else moving in. But she’s not ready to move in herself. Not yet. Dina keeps asking when Ellie’s going to host dinner, to which Ellie keeps replying “soon, maybe,” demurely.

Ellie approaches Eddin’s stall. He eyes her as he loads more tomatoes. “Sweet, these,” he says. “You’ll like ‘em.”

Ellie picks up a tomato from the basket. It’s plump and bright red. It almost makes her mouth water, but not because she wants to bite into it. It makes her think of Dina’s sauce. Dina had given her the recipe, but Ellie is more of a… simple cook.

After the… _event_ with Abby in the alley a few days ago, Ellie had gone back to Dina’s house. Lev was still playing with JJ, but when Ellie got back, he questioned her worriedly. Ellie told him Abby would probably go home soon, and he left to be there when she did. Ellie was still kind of dazed.

She asked Dina if she could stay and Dina had said “of course.” Privately, Ellie confessed to her that Abby had hugged her. She’s not sure why she said it, she just felt like she needed to say it to someone. Dina looked surprised, too. She asked for the whole story, but after thinking for a few seconds, Ellie declined. She said it felt private. So Dina said okay, hugged her, and the night carried on.

Ellie feels a dull pang of longing for living with Dina and her family. She takes a breath. She could go over there again. It’s been almost three days. She sighs. Maybe she could try to make it at Abby and Lev’s house.

A weak grin grows on her face. She wonders if she and Abby could cook together better than they played Bid Whist. She puts five tomatoes in her basket anyway.

“Good crop this year,” says Peter. Since taking over the crop stall from his dad Hank, he spends most of the time in a chair with his feet kicked up on another chair, reading books, letting the produce sell itself. He’s an alright guy, though.

“Hope so,” says Ellie, “I hear Souza is coming up in greenhouse H. Marty told me his celery is the best in town.”

“Celery,” Peter scoffs, turning the page. “Let me know when celery’s the talk of the town around here.”

Smirking, Ellie continues to the next stalls.

Not everyone goes to Market Row, since all produce and grains and such are stored long term down at Ulrich’s warehouse, where you can buy them at any time. If you’ve got time and you want the freshest, though, you come here.

She grabs some potatoes and an onion from Carrie’s stall, continuing on to Derrick’s. Derrick is all grain. He tries, with some success, to put a badass slant on his grain, since most of it is grown outside town, in relatively unprotected land, making farming and harvesting risky, and at times dangerous. A campaign that’s enhanced by the eyepatch over his right eye. There are rumors that his eye is fine, and it’s just for show, but Ellie has never seen for herself.

She looks over his wares. He’s got plenty of wheat, but also barley and even oat flour. Ellie considers. She likes baked goods well enough, but baking has resulted in disaster one too many times for her.

“There’s my kind of customer,” says Derrick, turning to Ellie after helping someone else. “As rugged as my blood-cut oats.” It stirs uncomfortable feelings for Ellie, but she pushes that down and rolls her eyes.

“Dangerous work,” says Ellie. “Be careful out there, or one day you might be standing on a peg leg all day, hawking flour,” she quips to the person standing next to her.

Derrick snorts at that. “Surprised I’m not already—“

Ellie doesn’t hear the rest, because the person standing next to Ellie turns out to be May. As soon as she sees her face, Clint flashes through her mind. They’re surprised at each other, then Ellie feels a wave of coldness in her chest, then something else in her gut. Guilt.

May, for her part, recognizes Ellie. Whatever goes through her mind next, Ellie can’t tell, but then she smiles. “Ellie, now if it hasn’t been an ages since I’ve seen you.”

Ellie knows she’s looking pale. She fumbles for words. “Shop still running okay?” The words come out hollow.

Now Ellie sees sympathy in May’s eyes, and she feels even worse. “Doing just fine. That’s why I’m here!” She looks down at her wheelbarrow, already loaded with two sacks of flour. “Hmm… Got any time, Ellie? With your help, I could probably bring back four bags, save me another trip. I can pay with baked goods!” She lowers her tone and whispers conspiratorially. “From this morning, but they’re still good, I assure you. I know my craft.”

Ellie’s taken aback. She looks down at the wheelbarrow. “Sure.” She sniffs, rubbing her nose. Then she puts her basket on the ground, loads up another couple sacks of wheat flour, puts her basket on top and picks up the wheelbarrow.

“Ooh, aren’t you a strong one. Come on, now.” May’s form ambles down the lane in front of her. Ellie follows, huffing slightly with the effort. Flour is heavier than you’d think.

May doesn’t say anything else as they make their way across Jackson to her bakery. May’s not weak, she could probably push the cart if she had to, but she’s over fifty, blonde hair mostly gray, fairly round and short. She walks with a favor to one side. Possibly arthritis, possibly an old injury. She’s a kindly woman, loved by folk even more than her goods, and she’s right, she knows her craft.

They arrive at the bakery and May opens the back door and gestures for Ellie to push the cart right in. She helps May unload it, all the while feeling a growing tension.

Ellie never spoke to May before they left Jackson. She knew she and Clint had a relationship, maybe his closest living. They weren’t blood, but the fondness was clear. She also knew Clint had lost his only family. His sister on the road, then his mother in Jackson, to sickness.

Ellie knows she should have come to see her after getting back to Jackson. After Clint.

“Oh, I do love a helpful youth,” says May, clutching her own basket of eggs. “And you are strong, aren’t you! Well, come on. I told you I owe you. And I’ve got to get these in the fridge.”

Ellie’s real nervous by this point, it’s probably showing, but all she can do is nod and follow.

It’s mid-afternoon, so May’s bakery is empty, closed for the day. The little lightwood tables are all wiped clean, chairs all neatly tucked in. There are paintings on the walls of wildflowers and a deer fawn. It makes Ellie think of a grandmother’s house.

May’s busy behind the counter, loading the eggs into the fridge. She looks over her shoulder at Ellie. “Well, why don’t you take your pick? I’ll take the rest down to Arnold’s, but not all of them are gonna get eaten.” She leans into the fridge, placing eggs into the back, but she turns Ellie’s way again. “And you and I have both spent time on the road. We both know it’s a shame to see food go to waste.”

She’s right about that. Ellie fiddles with her hands. Nervous as she is, she doesn’t have much of an appetite. She walks behind the counter, though, and looks through the open back of the glass cases.

There are a bunch of croissants and rolls. There are a couple little berry bakes too which immediately catch Ellie’s eye. Just what the doctor ordered. Right before she makes her selection, though, she looks on the far right and is surprised to see a few lemon squares. Ellie wouldn’t have suspected such a dessert item being on display.

They’re lemon curd, probably hand made by May, with a tasteful dusting of ground sugar on top and that sumptuous, flakey pastry layer on bottom. Ellie’s mouth starts to water. Berry is her favorite, but for some reason, they call to Ellie right now. With delicate hands, she reaches in and pulls one out on the little chipped ceramic plate it’s sitting on.

She stands there kind of awkwardly, waiting for May to formally approve. She also kind of needs a fork or something.

When May closes the refrigerator door and turns around, seeing what Ellie selected, she tilts her head. “Well, isn’t that something.” May appraises Ellie gently. “Those were Clint’s favorite.”

Ellie’s stomach drops and the little dish trembles in her hands. She meets May’s eyes but what she sees there makes her look at the floor.

“Ellie?” May asks, concerned as a mother.

“Are you mad at me?” Ellie asks her meekly.

Habitually wiping her hands on her apron, May slows to a stop. “Am I mad?”

Ellie’s heartrate is accelerating, and her mind is racing. She probably looks fucked up. She curses herself for not coming sooner. She keeps seeing Clint’s glassy eyes on that trailer floor.

May closes the distance between them and Ellie is powerless to move. May takes the little plate and sets in the counter. She takes Ellie’s fingers in her hands. “Why would I be mad, Ellie?”

Summoning her willpower, Ellie meets her eyes. They’re soft, and warm, and moist.

“It was my fault,” Ellie mutters.

May’s caring expression deepens and she squeezes Ellie’s fingers. “Ellie, you’re not the first person to feel that way. I feel that way.”

Ellie’s brow furrows. “How… what could you have done?”

“That’s a good question, Ellie.” There’s aged wisdom on May’s face. “And a difficult one to answer at times. I could have talked him out of it, though. I could have done that.”

Ellie blinks. She’s right. It wouldn’t have happened, if he had never come.

Clint is in her face again, her back to that pillar outside the lodge. His confidence outstrips his wisdom. _I’m in._

“But a young man—a young _person_ ,” May corrects herself, “is going to do what they feel they have to. Despite the risks. And from what I heard, you two did what you set off to do. Your mission.”

Ellie’s brow twitches. She glances off to the side. _Ellie’s mission_ , Clint had once said sardonically. That changed, though. In Santa Barbara. He was supposed to be here. They were supposed to share this.

Whatever victory ‘this’ amounted to.

“He was protecting me,” Ellie utters suddenly, “when it happened.”

That does give May pause. She rears back her head slightly, then closes her eyes in chagrin and turns to the side. She doesn’t speak it, but Ellie can read her lips. _Bev._

May turns back to her. “That boy was always so determined, wasn’t he?”

Now Ellie is taken aback. She doesn’t have any words, so she just nods.

“And disciplined. She trained him up good, that way.” Ellie doesn’t have to ask who she’s talking about. “Come Jackson, then his mother’s illness… he had lost just about everything.” May sighs, looking into the distance. “A stranger wouldn’t know it, looking at him. He took to duty, and working in the field. Always wanted to show his strength. I suspected it’s because he feared he’d never had it.”

The shrewdness surprises Ellie. May’s fingers are still curled with her own.

“It’s why he spent so much time with that Hugh character, lifting weights.” She chuckles. “You know they would listen to metal? He played some for me once,” she chuckles again. “Kind of took me back before the outbreak, actually…” She grows more serious again and looks at Ellie.

“As the years passed in Jackson, my worry grew, you know… I just saw… Or I didn’t see, a good future for him. A wife, children. He could have all that. He deserved it. But something, something just kept him from it. I’d get after him, but he’d insist he was fine. With his routine. It kept me up at night. I even spoke to Maria about it.”

As the words sink in, Ellie’s eyes widen.

Maria is leaning on her desk, in her office, having just made a peculiar demand. Ellie asked her if she had a list of people.

_No list. But it’s Wednesday, so you can find him down at the cafeteria, making a waffle sandwich._

“When he first came to me and told me what you two were planning, of course I thought it was ridiculous.” With that May sighs, and Ellie recognizes the feeling of regret in her eyes. “And then I thought about it… and reluctantly, _reluctantly_ , I warmed up to it.”

At the last, her voice finally breaks a little. She takes a breath, then skillfully reaches up and swipes some moisture from her eye.

“He was strong, I knew he was strong. In more ways than one. And as years passed, a skilled patroller as well. And that was all just rationalization, because at the end of the day I knew I couldn’t forbid him. Well, maybe I could. He’s a good boy, you know. He listens. I could have talked him out of it, if I really tried, I think. But…”

May takes a deep breath then, pulling until it seems her chest is full, and letting it all out at once. “But no. Wouldn’t have been right. So I gave him my blessing. And if the day came where I learned he would never come back, I knew would have to accept my portion of the responsibility.”

Ellie frowns sharply. In May’s face then, it’s all there. Sadness, regret, responsibility, empathy, and love.

“So if you’re going to blame yourself, Ellie, you’re going to have to blame me as well.”

It’s only then, in a subtle lilt of her words, that Ellie finally begins to see the other thing. May’s fragility, in all this. And for Ellie, a heat rises, buffeting the ice, a strength flows into her limbs, and she pulls May into an embrace, her head on her shoulder.

“Oh, Ellie, don’t,” May protests, arms wrapping around her back, but her voice isn’t steady. “No…” she says into Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie can feel her trembling, and a warm wetness touch her skin.

She holds May like that for some time, while the older woman gently weeps.

* * *

Ellie spent a while longer with May. Once she was done crying, she sat Ellie down while she ate her lemon square. She is actually a great conversationalist. They talked a lot about food, and then about hunting. It turns out that on the road, May had been a crack shot.

“Really?” Ellie asked.

“Oh, I’m no boaster. I had strong young mouths to feed, and that meant rabbits for stew on a regular basis. And the thing with rabbit stew, is you’ve _got_ to have some nice mushrooms.”

“I think I know what you’re talking about. Clint and I did that a couple times.” Ellie sniffs, remembering. “Yeah, in the Utah mountains, I remember…”

Eventually, Ellie told May she had to finish her shopping, and the older woman had showed her out the back. She thanked Ellie tenderly, squeezing her hand.

“I know you don’t like coffee, but you should come by soon for sweets. I might have something special for you.”

“Thanks,” Ellie replied. Ellie had never gotten to know May really, but now she finds herself glad to have her in town.

Back at Market Row, Ellie has picked up the basil she needs for the sauce, and she looks over her shoulder for the carrot guy, Earl. Carrots aren’t for the sauce, just for munching. But the first thing she notices is a woman with long, curly, bright red hair. Ellie’s heart jumps in her chest for a second, then she realizes it can’t be Maedlyn. Her height, her shoulders are wrong. She cuts a handsome figure in a simple black dress with butterfly patterns on it, though.

Ellie doesn’t recognize her. She must have moved to Jackson after Ellie left. As she’s watching, the woman chats animatedly with one of the vendors. She’s very expressive. She seems full of character. Lawrence in the booth starts laughing. Ellie smiles, then something catches her eye. The woman’s eyes, and her eyebrows. The way her lips move. And the sound of her voice, a distinct accent.

While Ellie wonders, the woman glances around and happens to catch Ellie’s eye. _Oh, shit_. Suddenly embarrassed, Ellie tries to play it off. Looking around desperately, she grabs a rutabaga and puts it in her basket, but when she turns, the woman is right there.

Ellie’s surprised, but the woman is almost more so. Her eyes go wide, and she retracts her head. “And you must be _Ellie_!” she says. Between her accent and her face, it could not be more abundantly clear that this is Maedlyn’s mom. “Now, I have heard so much about you!”

“Really?” Ellie replies weakly.

“Oh, yes, you’re the talk of the town! I heard you just got back from an epic, to hear it told. Some people are even saying—well, people say a lot of things.”

Ellie can tell she’s blushing. She’s not giving her much room in the conversation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh, my gosh!” the woman exclaims, “if you aren’t right. My name is Eilene! Pleased to meet you!” She gives Ellie a strange, dainty handshake. “Now, I’m very social, so I’m sure we’d have met, but you only got back to town not long ago, is that right?”

“That’s right,” says Ellie.

“Well, forgive my rudeness, why don’t you come to my place for some tea! I have cookies as well, the road seems to have underfed you.”

Not sure whether she should be offended, Ellie is thinking of a response when she feels Eilene’s arm on her back and suddenly they’re walking together down the street. “I, uh…”

“Oh, you aren’t busy, are you dear?”

“Well, no… I should get these home at some point, though.” Ellie lifts up her basket.

“Oh, such a healthy eater, I see! It’s no worry, my house is on the way.”

“How do you know that?” Ellie asks, taken aback.

“You live down on Caster Street, right? Down by the end? Like I said, I’m _very_ social. No meat for a young woman?” Eilene gestures down to her basket.

“Oh, uh…”

“Are you a vegetarian?”

“Well, no, definitely not. I just usually get my steaks at Arnold’s.”

“Oh, Arnold’s,” she makes a dismissive gesture. “Now, the man’s talented, but seems like he gets the lion’s share of the business around here. Pai, down on Langston, now he’s got some great dishes, I love meeting my girlfriends over there.”

“Really? I haven’t been there.”

“Oh, there’s new places cropping up every month around here, it seems like.”

“Yeah, I had Guillermo’s last time I was here,” Ellie’s stomach lurches at the memories and who she’s walking with, but she catches herself quickly, “it’s really good. Really good. We had Mexican in Boston, but it was awful by comparison.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Eilene’s eyes telegraph exaggerated interest. It’s hard to tell how sincere she’s being. “Well, if you aren’t right. I’m fond of the man himself, too. So charming, and such good humor!” Ellie smiles, remembering the charismatic cook. “His restaurant has only the finest.”

At first Ellie thinks she imagines the implication, then she thinks she’s right, and she can feel her cheeks turn pink.

They’re approaching a lovely little one-story house with a red door and lots of flowers on display on the front porch.

“This is your place?” Ellie asks. “It’s really nice.”

“Oh, _thank_ you, sweetheart. It took a while to settle in, but it’s perfect. Not too big, so there’s not too much to clean. Come in! Come in!”

Eilene beckons as she pushes open the shiny red door. Ellie climbs the last step and walks inside. It opens to a sitting area on the right with a nice, but chipped vase on the coffee table. The couches are mismatched, but both floral printed. To the left is a dining area with a nice, antique looking table and chairs and another vase in the middle. Everything is kind of immaculate and dust-free. It makes Ellie feel a bit bad about her place. The air smells like lavender. Honestly, it smells _strongly_ of lavender.

“Go ahead and have a seat, hun,” Eilene says without turning, gesturing to the couches. “I’ll bring out something nice.” She disappears in the back, where Ellie guesses the kitchen is.

Not having much alternative, Ellie places her basket on the entry table. As she lets go, she freezes. She forgot to pay for the rutabaga. She’ll have to make it up to Rufus next time. She plunks down onto one of the couches. They’re pretty soft with age, but the fabric is really well cleaned. She runs her hand along it. The coffee table shines. Curious, Ellie touches it. Her finger comes away a little oily, and she wipes it on her jeans.

A few minutes later, there’s some whistling from the kitchen, and afterward Eilene returns with a full tray, setting it on the table.

“I hope you don’t mind Earl Grey.”

“Could never complain,” says Ellie, having no idea what Earl Grey is.

“Here’s some honey, if you prefer sweet. I know I do. I’d have made you a hot toddy, but I figured it’s a bit early.”

Ellie can’t help but smirk at that. Eilene has a full, matching tea set, with little spoons that look to be made of silver. It’s fancy enough it almost makes her a little nervous to use them. Eilene pours her a cup, and Ellie spoons some of the thick honey into it, stirring until it dissolves.

Ellie picks up the cup and finds that Eilene is watching her expectantly. Feeling under pressure, Ellie takes a sip. It’s stronger than she expected, but the honey offsets it. It’s quite nice, actually.

“I like it,” she says simply.

“Oh, good!” says Eilene, seeming genuinely pleased. She sits down across from Ellie.

Also on the tray is a plate of cookies of a few varieties. Ellie’s eyes widen when she sees the jam sandwiches. She hasn’t had one of those in ages. “What kind are these?”

“Oh, strawberry, of course.”

Ellie grabs one and takes a bite, dribbling a few crumbs onto the carpet from the crisp pastry. A little embarrassed, she grabs one of the saucers and holds it under her hand as she chews. It’s totally delicious.

Not vocalizing her enjoyment, she makes a sound gives Eilene a look of approval.

“Oh, I’m glad you like them. They’re my favorite, too, and Maedlyn’s.”

Ellie almost chokes at the name, but manages to hold it together. She takes a sip of tea, or more like a gulp.

“Now you two have met, correct?” Eilene asks innocently.

 _She doesn’t know everything_ , Ellie tells herself. _Maedlyn’s discreet. She wouldn’t have told her everything._

“Yeah, the first night I went to Guillermo’s,” says Ellie. She’s not sure what to say. “She seems well liked.”

“Oh, I hope so. She’s my little treasure, after all. But who could not like her?”

“She’s a charmer,” says Ellie, stirring her tea.

“Oh, indeed.” Eilene stirs her own tea and takes a sip. “Just that one night, then?”

“Um,” says Ellie, “I ran into her a couple more times. We talked a little.”

“Can I ask what about?” Eilene asks, cradling her steaming cup in front of her face, coy as can be.

 _I see where she gets it_. Ellie considers. “Life, I guess. She, um.” Ellie sniffs. “She was nice to me, after New Year’s. Not long after Tommy died.”

“Oh,” that affects Eilene somewhat. “That was dreadful.” She lowers her teacup. “I’m sorry, Ellie. It must have been hard.”

“It was.” She can’t help but see Clint, carrying Tommy on his shoulder. Then Clint, on Abby’s…

She sets her teacup down firmly with a little clack. She starts taking deep breaths, willing herself steady. She can deal with that stuff later. She can deal with that stuff later.

Eilene shifts in her seat. She’s probably distressed at Ellie’s reaction. ‘Subtle’ as she is, Ellie must be like a bullhorn right now. Ellie decides to head it off.

“So where did you two come from?” Ellie asks her.

Eilene’s taken aback, and for an instant, the mask slips. “Before Jackson, you mean?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Well…” Eilene touches her lips wither two of her fingers, looking down. “I’m sorry, I…”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” says Ellie, feeling foolish. Why would she want to talk about that?

“It’s okay, you’ve been so gracious. It’s just, those were harder times.” She slumps down into the couch a bit. “Being honest with you, Ellie, this life is much more my speed.” She glances down at the tea set and chuckles. “But you can probably tell.”

“Yeah,” says Ellie, and it’s easy to smile. “I’m glad for you.”

Eilene gazes down at her steaming tea for a few seconds, then speaks up all at once.

“Those were frightful times. After the outbreak, there were years… I dare not even say. Wesley and I settled in Paisley, Missouri. There was a small settlement there.” Her brow pinches. There’s nostalgia on her face, and… remorse, it looks like. “Paisley was really fine, you know. The time we spent there. We all kind of came together, different walks of life. We made a little village. The men made a fence, to keep out the sick.”

The sick? Is that what she calls the infected?

“The women farmed, and cooked, the men hunted. We grew together. It was a nice time. Maedlyn was born in Paisley.”

“Really?” Ellie asks.

“Oh, yes. And she wasn’t the only one. And for many years, over a decade, we were happy there. There were trials… seasons of illness. Trouble with the crops. But we made do. I loved every single one of those people. I love them still.” Eilene’s eyes have grown more distant as she stares into the carpet. There’s a longing smile on her lips, but then, the wrinkles on her face start to show. “Then things went bad for us, all at once.

“A group appeared at the gates one day, demanding entry. We obliged them, since we weren’t warlike, but it turns out they were. I could tell just by looking at them that these men were trouble. They walked around the village without our permission, inspecting things and saying nothing much polite. Then they started making demands. We needed to give them this many crops, this much fabric, so on and so forth. Mavis put his foot down finally and kicked them all out. They were outnumbered, so they left. Then they came back that night in numbers and raised hell.”

There’s a tremor on Eilene’s face. Ellie wonders if she should tell her she doesn’t have to say any of this, but she seems determined. “They broke down the gate with a truck. They set buildings on fire and ran people down, cutting ‘em, shooting ‘em. They killed Mavis, and more of the men that stood up for us. Including my Matthew,” her voice breaks.

“I’m so sorry,” says Ellie, and she genuinely is.

“Well, of course. Me too. Still am. But we survived. They never left, after that. They would always be walking around town with their guns, beating up anyone who showed too much attitude. They took what they wanted from our crops and supplies. And more than that.”

“Eilene…”

“Was no question I couldn’t allow Maedlyn to grow up in such a place. Several of the women began plotting in the sewing rooms and fields. We would run away, at night, when they were sleeping off their liquor. Some folks were too scared, but a large number of us agreed. We waited for our moment. And sure enough, one night those men had a big old shindig, and all got well and truly drunk. We gathered up the supplies we squirreled away, and stole off into the night. Never returned. I hope that—“ Her voice breaks again and she brings one hand toward her mouth. She still hasn’t met Ellie’s eyes. “I hope those we left behind fared okay.” Her voice is quiet.

“You did what you had to,” said Ellie. Surprised at the surety in Ellie’s voice, Eilene does meet her eyes. “For you, and for Maedlyn.”

“Well… you’re right. I had no choice. Little M, she was only 13. She barely understood.

“After that, it was tough times, but in a different way. Fortunately there were those among us who knew well how to survive out in the wild, and they taught the rest. We foraged, others hunted. We avoided people and infected alike, after Paisley. It was hard for me,” her voice breaks again, “not knowing if we would ever have a permanent home. And we lost some, along the way.

“Now and then we’d settle in a location for a few months, even a year, but one thing or another always drove us on. And then we found Jackson.

“When I saw what I saw, I was terrified; terrified they wouldn’t let us in. That we didn’t have enough to offer. But Maria, bless that woman, she was generous. She told me I’d have to get my hands dirty. Which seemed ominous at first, but she was being literal.” Smiling, Eilene displays her fingernails, and Ellie can indeed see traces of dirt under them. “Farming seemed practical, since I’d done much of it. She pegged me right, though, pre-outbreak I’d have preferred much… cleaner work. Now, though, I truly enjoy it. Those greenhouses are like little cathedrals, if you know what to look for.”

Ellie pinches her brow. Cathedrals? She must really not know what Eilene is talking about. “Um… thank you for sharing all that. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, Ellie.” Just like that Eilene has adopted her earlier manner. The emotions must still be there, though, under the surface. “There’s no fun in remaining strangers with everyone, that’s why I’m so social. And do help me eat more of these cookies, I’m becoming worried I’m going to eat them all.” She makes a wary face and gestures around her midsection and hips.

Ellie laughs, and takes another cookie with little chunks of chocolate in it.

“Now that I’ve spilled my guts, Ellie, I _have_ been wondering—“ Eilene is interrupted by a knock at the door.

Eilene is displeased for a second, then a smile spreads across her face. “One moment, dear.” She rises and moves to the door. When she opens it, Ellie’s heart jumps when she sees Maedlyn’s face.

“There’s a face I like to see!” Eilene bubbles happily. She pulls Maedlyn into a hug.

“Hi, mama,” Maedlyn says into her shoulder. “You know, you really should go easy on that Lavender oil.” Looking past her at who’s sitting on the couch, Maedlyn’s eyes go wide in shock.

Eilene lets go and Maedlyn tries to recover herself. “Well, come on in, sugar. As you can see, I have company. Tea’s up!”

“Indeed you do.” Maedlyn gives Ellie a sharply questioning look, to which Ellie just shrugs. _What could I do?_

Maedlyn glances at her mother and seems to get it. She sits down in the chair between Eilene and Ellie. “Well it’s a regular party, now.”

“Almost!” says Eilene. “Ooh, I love this! Should we put dinner on? That could be fun! Oh, but it’s a bit early. Ooh, I can put on some music! Just one moment.” Eilene gets up and practically prances over to a record player by the wall, fiddling with it. Ellie notices she’s wearing heels.

“Did she interrogate you?” Maedlyn whispers.

Ellie looks over, and her heart jumps again and the proximity of Maedlyn’s face. Ellie’s nervous, and pretty to the wind in this situation. For now, Maedlyn seems to be on her side. Ellie tries to keep her cool.

She weighs her hands. “Not really. I think she was about to, though.”

Maedlyn gestures between them and mouths _I rescued you._

A classic, orchestral track starts playing, soon joined by a man’s voice singing in big-band style. Sounds like it’s from the 50s or 60s.

“Count Basie and the New Testament band,” explains Eilene as she returns. “My daddy’s favorite. I feel so blessed to have it. Had to trade Annette my best pair of earrings, though.” Eilene chews her lip in genuine discomfit. “In any case! M, baby, Ellie and I have just been getting to know each other. How’s your day? Work treat you alright?”

“It’s fine, mama. Not too busy.”

“No rude comments?”

Maedlyn looks off for a second in exasperation. “No, and if there were, I’d rather not revisit them.”

“Well, you just let me know. Not too late for me to give that Elmo character a talking to.” Eilene takes another dainty sip as Maedlyn pours herself some tea. “No chile Colorado today?”

“Not today, and—oh, you’re impossible! Every time I bring it, you relish it, then get after me about always bringing you fatty food!”

“Now, I’m not sure about that, I—“ Eilene is interrupted by the phone ringing. “Oh, I bet that’s Agnes. From Paisley!” she pips at Ellie, to her surprise. That catches Maedlyn’s attention, too, brow knitting. “I really gotta get that, hold on now!” With that, she hops right up and bounces back to where a wall phone hangs by the kitchen.

“How many phone calls has she gotten?” Maedlyn asks dryly.

“Just that one, so far,” Ellie replies.

“It’ll probably be a while, then.”

“Oh, Agnes! I was hoping you’d call.” Eilene’s voice carries all-too-well from the rear of the house. “You know who I ran into today? That Ellie girl! Maedlyn’s friend! Oh yes, that’s the one!”

Maedlyn visibly blushes.

“Oh, no, she’s lovely! And I mean _lovely_.”

“Okay, well,” says Maedlyn, “maybe we should just—“

“Yeah,” says Ellie, now blushing as well.

They gather up some things from the table and Maedlyn leads them into the dining area. She moves a sliding door closed, shutting them off from the living room and dampening her mother’s voice.

Maedlyn sets down her tea, and when she sees Ellie brought the whole cookie tray, gives her a little smirk.

“What?” says Ellie. “She asked me to help finish them.”

“I suppose I can contribute,” says Maedlyn, taking the last jam sandwich.

“Your mom told me you love those,” says Ellie.

“Because they’re the best.”

“They’re awesome. Your mom is a good baker.”

“She is,” says Maedlyn, “but I made these.”

Ellie’s features slacken. “You did?”

“So how did she nab you?”

“Huh?”

“How did she get you here? Or did you hunt her down?”

“Hunt her down?” Ellie asks, taken aback. “No, no, I was just at the market… I, like, saw her over my shoulder, and her hair, and you know…” She trails off awkwardly.

“And you thought it was me,” says Maedlyn with a little smile.

“For a second, yeah.”

“With all those curls everywhere?”

“I mean, that was my first clue it wasn’t you. Her hair is awesome, though.”

Maedlyn looks down. “Oh, certainly. I’ve always preferred to shape it myself, is all.”

“You’re really good at it,” says Ellie. “How did you do it today?”

Maedlyn gives Ellie a look that says she knows she’s trying to get away with something, but she supports her hair at the nape of her neck and turns so Ellie can see. It’s all drawn back toward the nape of her neck, like the other day, but this time it’s braided vertically into a column maybe five inches long, lustrous and vibrant.

“It’s great.” Ellie’s voice comes out a little dry.

“Thank you.”

“Who taught you?”

“Lacey.” Sadness touches Maedlyn’s features then. She looks up. “She really told you about Paisley?” Maedlyn chews her cookie, but her face has grown serious.

Ellie considers. “I asked about where you guys came from… I could tell it… brought up some bad memories. I said we didn’t have to talk about it, but then she just started going.”

“Mm.”

“Do you remember it?”

Maedlyn’s brow pinches, then she takes another little bite. “Of course.”

“It sounds like it was really nice.”

At first Ellie think she’s imagining it, but then she can see there are tears forming in the corners of Maedlyn’s eyes. “It was.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“What else did she tell you?” Maedlyn asks.

Ellie’s preoccupied with the thought that she had just caused Maedlyn pain, but she tries to put that aside and think. “I mean…” She shrugs. “Just all the stuff you told her about me.”

Maedlyn freezes up.

“Wow,” says Ellie, smiling. “You told her that much?”

“Oh you—“ says Maedlyn, covering her mouth with one hand, still chewing. “You little shit. That was slick. That’s supposed to be my move.”

“Guess you need to work on your game.”

“You know, I—“

“You two are really cute.”

“Excuse me?”

“You and your mom. When you hugged at the door. It was really nice to see that. And I get—“ Ellie smiles, then laughs. “I get why you like having your own place.”

“Oh, you do?” says Maedlyn dryly.

“But it’s just really nice to see that. Family, like that.” The humor drains from Maedlyn’s face. “Intact.”

“Well, we’re not wholly intact.”

“Are you talking about your dad?”

“Yeah,” Maedlyn replies quietly.

“Is he off limits?”

Maedlyn considers her. “For now, yeah.”

“Okay.” Ellie fingers her locket. “Can I show you something?”

Maedlyn’s act drops a little. She’s curious. Eager. She nods.

Ellie reaches under her hair and unhooks the clasp. She reaches over and lays the locket and chain in Maedlyn’s palm.

“It helped me,” says Ellie, “out there.”

Gently, Maedlyn unlocks it and opens the clasp. Anna stares up at her from the slightly faded photograph. “Oh, Ellie…”

“Her name was Anna.”

“What was she like?” Maedlyn asks.

“I never knew her,” Ellie replies. It’s a shock to Maedlyn, she can tell. “I inherited her diary, though. She was amazing. She was really strong. She protected her friends. She never gave up, even when things were really bad, after the outbreak.”

Maedlyn is frowning at Anna’s picture. At the wrongness of it all, maybe.

“What about your daddy?”

“Never knew him either.” That moves Maedlyn so much Ellie has to look away. “He… from what little I know, he wasn’t as strong. But I suspect he had more to offer than he wanted to admit.”

“Is that so…”

For a reason she can’t quite name, Ellie feels uncomfortable, then. She looks at the locket. Maedlyn clasps it and returns it to Ellie, who dons it again.

“Who’s your family now,” says Maedlyn, “if I may ask?”

Ellie considers.

“Just Dina?”

“No,” says Ellie, “not just Dina. There’s JJ, of course. And…”

She can feel her warm hand against her cheek, that look in her eyes.

_I love you, girl. And I’m not the only one. Don’t forget._

“And Maria,” she stumbles. That familiar, cold feeling wells in her chest again. “And a couple of other people who aren’t with us anymore.” Her voice is tight.

“Oh, Ellie,” says Maedlyn, reaching out and squeezing Ellie’s hand.

It feels really, really good, and Ellie is thankful to her. “I treasure the ones I still have.”

“Yeah,” says Maedlyn. “Me, too.”

The heavy blanket of mourning settles over Ellie’s shoulders for a moment. “And I treasure the ones I lost, too.”

“Oh…” Maedlyn’s brow furrows.

Ellie thinks of May’s warm eyes, and the way she had held Ellie’s fingers, not long ago. “And there may still be room for more.”

Maedlyn’s lips part, but she doesn’t say anything.

Ellie thinks about Clint again, and the idea pops into Ellie’s head all at once. “Um… You know, there’s this thing, I still have to do.”

“Oh,” says Maedlyn, sitting up. She retracts her hand with… reluctance. “Oh, okay.”

Ellie kind of doesn’t want to leave, either, but she feels like she’s ahead at the moment. She glances at the door to the living room. She can still hear Eilene talking animatedly on the phone. “Uh… should I climb out the window?”

Maedlyn smiles. “Oh, no, don’t do that. Tell you what, just go out there, real casual, grab your things, and open the door. She’ll try to stop you, but she _will not_ hang up the phone. So just pay her a compliment and go.”

Ellie smirks. “Tried and true?”

“Most definitely.”

 _Who dares, wins_.

Ellie stands up, slides open the door, grabs her basket off the entry table and opens the front door.

“Oh!” exclaims Eilene. “Ellie, oh, just a moment, dear—“

“Thank you so much for the tea and cookies,” says Ellie, “your house is beautiful.”

Eilene does an anxious little dance, some combination of flattered and displeased, but she will not let go of the receiver. “Oh, thank you, dear. Now, you will come back soon, right?”

“Definitely,” says Ellie, and with that, she closes the door.

* * *

Ellie runs her hands over her jeans. Ever since she first thought of it, in Eilene’s dining room with Maedlyn, she’d been determined. She knew she needed to do it, but now that she’s here, she suddenly feels nervous.

Clint’s ‘house’ is a trailer down on the East end of town. Small, but amenable. Cozy, not unlike her garage. It’s a faded blue with steps leading up to a plain white door.

Ellie looks around. The neighborhood is quiet. She can see Mrs. Lowdry walking her dog in the distance, but she’s walking away. No eyes on her. Now’s the time.

She does the only thing she can do in these situations, she shakes it off and starts moving. She climbs the steps and tries the door. A lot of people in town never lock their doors, since theft is rare, but Clint is not one of them.

Ellie reaches into her pocket and pulls out her lock picking tools. The lock is not particularly good, and she throws the bolt in less than thirty seconds. Still, her hand hesitates before grabbing the knob. She grabs it, pulls the door open, and closes it quietly behind her.

The blinds are all drawn and it’s dark inside. It’s faint, but Ellie can smell it. The smell of Clint, in the air. She starts drifting into a dark place, a colder place. But she did not come here to cry. She has all the time in the world to do that at home. She reaches up and flips on the light.

The first thing she notices is that he’s not very good at decorating. There’s a tidy kitchen with a toaster and small fridge. There’s a floor lamp and a beat up brown recliner, a little stand and TV in front of it, and a small, rickety bookshelf stuffed with books next to it. There’s a long dresser with a mirror in the middle. There’s a wood carved bear on it. Next to his well-made bed with plaid covers, there’s a little side table with a lamp and an alarm clock. The sole piece of frivolity is limited to the water damaged but mostly intact _Def Leppard_ poster on the wall.

Other than the layer of dust over everything, it’s super clean. He seems to have liked to keep things in order.

Ellie takes one hand in the other, brow pinched up. She questions herself. Is this a good idea? Should she be here?

She considers that she might be the last person Clint knows who ever will.

The first and most interesting thing is the bookshelf. She starts rifling through it. She finds a couple westerns, some fantasy. He has the whole _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy, which is actually pretty impressive. There’s a lot of _noir_ fiction, actually, which is interesting. Then she finds a romance novel, and judging from the spine, he read it. She laughs, then she realizes it will never happen for him in real life. It feels heavy, after that, so she puts it back and stands up.

That’s when she notices the pictures. She picks up the first one. It’s Clint and his mom, taken after they got to Jackson, before she died of illness. They’re smiling really big. Maybe they’re just happy to be alive and safe, finally. She puts it back and pictures up the other one. It’s him and May. May’s shorter than him, but he’s sitting down, and she’s resting her head on his with a loving smile. He’s smiling too, but there’s a reluctance, like he’s embarrassed or something. And if Ellie is any judge, there’s more sadness in his eyes.

She puts that one down, and wanders over to his bed.

The night stand has a cabinet in it. Ellie crouches down and opens it. There’s a pile of random junk in there. _So you do have a messy side._ There are boxes of ammo, a jar of long-molded cookies, scissors and small tools, a couple beanies… _Come on, Clint, where are the porno mags?_

When she gets to the bottom, she finds a leather-bound notebook. Seeing it makes her feel something in her chest. She picks it up and looks at it, but she doesn’t feel like opening it right away. She puts it on the bed, closes the cabinet door, and sits on the plaid covers.

That’s when she notices the picture. The overhead light is dim in this corner of the trailer. She reaches over and turns on the lamp next to the bed.

The picture had been turned all the way sideways, facing the bed, in line with the pillows. Ellie picks it up.

She’s probably fifteen, but she’s tall, and thin. She’s got blue eyes and long, straight, dark hair, all the way to her waist. She’s smiling and her teeth are a little crooked. She’s got strong cheekbones. Her smile is big, but her eyes are slightly narrowed, like _what are you looking at?_ She’s pretty. She looks strong. Ellie strokes her thumb over the girl’s cheek.

A tear escapes and Ellie brushes it away. She puts Bev back on the nightstand, like she had found her.

She sits there in silence for a little while. Finally, she sighs, and she picks up the journal. She opens it to the first page.

 _I don’t want to do this, but Mom said I have to._ He capitalized mom. She flips a couple pages, not wanting to, but needing to. Seems like he started it after he got to Jackson. She stops when she sees Bev’s name.

_I love you Bev and I don’t care what you said I’d do it again in a minute I’d do anything to change_

Ellie’s face screws up and another tear escapes and she lets it. She lets some sounds escape with it, turns around and lies on the bed, back to the light. She holds the journal closed for a minute, then she opens it again and turns to the last entry.

_Can’t catch Ellie for the life of me but we could leave any day now. Fucking girl, I hope she doesn’t plan on bossing me around the whole time. Won’t take long, she’ll see how capable I am. Already did._

_I guess… I guess the point is to write my feelings here, that’s what Mom said, if I don’t do that, I’m not getting much done. So I’m nervous. I spend a lot of time outside these walls, but this will be different. This is The Road. I remember The Road, and it’s not kind. Ellie, she seems tough as a motherfucker, though, so between the two of us, we can do it. It’s not like before. We’ve got both the tools and the experience. This won’t be clinging to life, it will be professional. I like that._

_So, yeah, I’m scared. But I’m also fucking excited. Ellie and I are gonna go off to make a_ cure _. That’s some history shit. Who knows what we’ll see out there._

_The other thing is… The other thing is May. She knows, and I can tell she doesn’t like it. It’s weekday clockwork, me in her shop. And I know it means more to her than she lets on, just like it does for me. I like that she makes it easy like that._

_God, I love her so much. I really ought to tell her that. Maybe when we get back._

_Book’s been open for a while. Guess I’m not ready to shut it. I’m in a dark spot again. I wish there was someone I can tell, but who wants to hear that? What it feels like, to be the only one left in your family. The man, watching the women he loves die._

_And every time, I come back to that. My reminder. I still have May. Nothing ever gonna happen to her. Jackson will make sure of that, and I’m part of that assurance. Me. I will not let go of that._

Ellie lets the book fall shut and she pushes it away and pulls the pillow into her face. There’s no one left to be mad about her crying on it.


	30. Hard Won

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some tender moments in this one that felt really good to write. I hope you like them. Next chapter, there's to be a little more action before the end!
> 
> But will the end be truly happy…?
> 
> Enjoy!

Ellie leans over the bubbling sauce and sniffs. The sharp scent of the cooking tomatoes mixes with the basil, and it smells delicious. Not as good as Dina’s did, not yet…

She looks up at Abby, standing nearby and watching. “What do you think?”

Abby eyes her. “Aren’t you the head chef?” She takes the spoon off the rest, dips it in, blows on it, and tastes it. Her cheeks crinkle. “Still sour.”

Ellie frowns. That’s what she was afraid of, of course. The basil was supposed to make it sweeter. “Like really sour?”

“Ellie, if I ate an entire plate of that, I’d get heartburn.”

“Damn it. Let’s add some honey.”

Abby puts the spoon down and starts opening cabinets. It’s their house, of course, but they haven’t been there that long. Ellie particularly appreciates the line of baby blue tiles running along the back of the counters and the lacy, Suzy-homemaker curtains over the kitchen sink.

“Lev,” Abby asks, “where is the honey again?”

Lev looks up from where he is chopping vegetables for the salad. “I believe it is in that left one, on the bottom.”

Abby ducks down and a few moments later rises with a jar in her hand. She unscrews the lid and dips in a spoon.

“Whoa, not too much!” says Ellie.

Abby gives her an exasperated look. “Well, how much?”

“I don’t know, like… a medium amount.”

“A _medium_ amount?”

“Look, cooking is an art, not a science. Try that, that could work.”

Abby sighs, and dips the honey-laden spoon into the sauce, stirring it around until the honey is all gone. They both watch in anticipation, letting it bubble a little longer. Out of the corner of her eye, Ellie notices Lev watching them. When she looks, he turns back to what he’s doing, but completely fails to hide his smile.

Ellie looks at Abby expectantly.

Abby gestures with her head. “You try it this time.”

Ellie dips in the spoon, blows on it, then takes a taste. She smacks her lip and frowns.

“Bad?”

“I mean… it’s sweeter. Still kind of burns the tongue, though.”

“Ellie, I don’t think your tomatoes were ripe.”

“It’s _fine,_ dude. Um…” Ellie grasps at ideas. “So it’s definitely not possible for it to ripen while you’re cooking it, right?”

Abby’s eyes roll back as she looks up, hands on her hips.

“Maybe more honey, or—Oh! I just remembered something!”

“What?”

“What was it? I can’t remember who said it… Someone once told me you can add a little baking soda. Do you guys have any of that?”

Abby looks at Lev.

Lev shoots Abby back a look. Abby suppresses a smirk for a second, then starts laughing.

“What?” Ellie asks.

“It is where the honey was,” says Lev, “but it would not be my first recommendation.”

“What does that mean?” Ellie asks.

“When I found it in the crate,” says Abby, “I dared him to try some.”

“Ugh!” exclaims Ellie. “That’s messed up!” She looks at Lev. “What does it taste like?”

“Bad.”

“Let’s get some of that.” This time, Ellie rifles through the cabinet, it’s dim, but she’s able to find a small jar with white powder. There’s tape on the side and someone has written ‘baking soda’ on it. “Perf.” Ellie gets a little spoon out of the drawer and starts scooping.

“Whoa, whoa,” says Abby. “How much do you need? Do you even remember what they said? Or is this part of the art?”

“It’s all part of the art,” says Ellie. She sprinkles some around the sauce, sets the spoon aside, and starts stirring it. The sauce dulls in color slightly, and an oily pearlescence appears in the dish. Ellie has no idea if that’s a good sign.

“That doesn’t look right,” says Abby.

“Try.”

“You try!”

“It’s your turn.”

“It’s your sauce, Ellie!”

“I thought we were a team.”

“I am not trying that.”

Ellie scoops up a little sauce and blows on it. She takes a sip. The acidity is way down, and there’s a bit of sweetness, which is great, until it is completely ruined by a horrible, bitter aftertaste. She screws up her face.

Abby raises her eyebrows.

Ellie sniffs. “More honey, I think.”

Abby’s skeptical, but she goes along, until she tries the sauce next. After a couple seconds she recoils. “Ugh, that’s foul, Ellie!”

“More honey?”

“It tastes like cleaner! Like sweetened cleaner!”

“Kind of killed the zesty tomato part.”

“Is it really that bad?” Lev asks. Abby beckons him. He hesitates a second, then comes over and takes a sip from the spoon in her hand. His eyebrows shoot up, then he screws up his face, too. “Ugh! Abby’s right!”

“Is that what baking soda tastes like?” Ellie asks.

“No, but it’s not much better!”

“Ellie, we can’t eat this.”

“But I mean…” Ellie struggles for a second, but the fact is, they’re right.

Ten minutes later they’re sitting at their little table, each with a plate of salad in front of them. Lev added tomatoes and onion to the lettuce, along with some roasted nuts and Marie’s delicious vinaigrette.

“This is really good, Lev,” says Ellie.

“Thank you! Marie’s sauce is my favorite. I heard she has raspberry and strawberry, too!”

Ellie can’t help but smile at Lev calling it ‘sauce _.’_

“Lev’s really good with salads,” says Abby, “but I’m pretty hungry…”

“There’s still noodles,” says Ellie.

“Plain noodles?”

“Could add butter. JJ likes it.”

“You said that was a killer recipe.”

“It is when Dina makes it…”

They make small talk while they eat, but a few minutes later they’re all sitting in front of empty plates. Ellie rests her cheek in her hand. She’d been looking forward to the sauce, too. She looks at Abby. “Still hungry?”

Abby nods.

Ellie looks at Lev.

“I could eat more,” Lev says sheepishly.

Ellie sighs. “Alright, sense I _guess_ I kind of broke a promise, I could treat at Arnold’s.”

Abby looks at Lev. “I could go for that.”

“Me, too,” he replies.

And so it happened that they wound up at Arnold’s after sundown, hunting for a table amidst the chatter and the low, warm light. It’s Thursday, but Arnold’s is still probably the most popular spot in town, and it’s pretty busy.

Arnold’s behind the bar, as usual. He does run the place, but he seems to like serving drinks himself. He’s tall, with a great big jaw and receding blonde hair. He’s got a khaki vest and white button down with rolled up sleeves. “Well, look who it is!” He proclaims when he sees Ellie. “Been a while since I’ve seen you in here. I hope you three are hungry.”

“No worries there,” says Ellie drily. “Anything good tonight? Elk? Beef, maybe?”

“Better,” he says. “Boar.”

“Yeah?” says Ellie, actually excited. “What cut?”

“Full cut.”

Ellie frowns. That’s his way of saying ‘ground.’ “What you got then? Burgers?”

“I imagine.”

Ellie looks at the others.

“I haven’t had a burger in a long time!” says Lev. Ellie smiles at the way he enunciates ‘burger.’

“Spuds?” Ellie asks Arnold.

“I hope so,” he replies.

“What’s the oil?”

“Peanut, lately.”

Ellies brows shoot up. That sounds awesome. “You guys good for that?”

“Pretty sure I can make room,” says Abby.

Ellie pulls out her leather pouch and extracts some notes. “Three of those, medium, all the trimmings, and a big basket.” She lays the notes on the counter.

“Right up,” says Arnold.

They manage to find a big table in the back that’s not taken. There are extra chairs, and Ellie kicks her feet up on one next to her. “You guys are in for a treat.”

“Boar burgers and peanut fries, huh?” asks Abby, sipping a cider she’d picked up at the bar.

“Oh yeah. Arnold’s fries are great, too, he does the criss-cut thing.”

That gets Abby’s attention. “Really? I haven’t had those since Lumen Field.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the stadium, in Seattle. Was our city, basically.”

“Ah, wolf-town.”

“Don’t call it that,” says Abby. “That’s where all the civilians lived. The parents, and old folks, and kids. And the food was _great_ , for your information.”

“Hmm, well, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh,” says Lev suddenly. He’s looking across the bar.

“What is it?” Abby asks him.

“Um…” he shows rare hesitation. “That’s Mrs. Lowdry. She’s been very friendly with me. Perhaps I should say hello.”

Abby cocks an eye. “Well don’t let us stop you.”

Lev bounces out of his seat and across the bar.

“Something strange?” Ellie asks.

“Not sure,” says Abby. She looks Ellie’s way. “Hey, I almost forgot after the disaster earlier. I wanted to tell you—“

As she’s speaking, a figure appears over her shoulder, and when Ellie sees who it is, she’s stunned for a second.

“In town for two weeks and no time to visit?” Jordan asks her, shaking his head. “For shame.”

“Oh, shit, dude!” Ellie actually jumps out of her chair and hugs him. When she lets go, she feels a wave of fear. She’s about to ask where the others are when she sees Sarah behind him. A surge of affection goes through her. “Dude!” Sarah smiles, hands on hips, and accepts Ellie’s hug. “You guys aren’t leaving, are you?”

“Well, I just got my first beer, so…” Jordan looks at Sarah, who gives him a look. “So not soon, I hope.”

“Dude, sit with us! There’s more chairs! Are Thomas and Kate…” she trails off, afraid of what might come next.

Jordan turns around, finding the eyes of the younger couple in a booth across the room. He beckons them. When they see Ellie, their eyes widen. They hurriedly gather up their food and walk over.

“Holy crap, Ellie!” says Thomas, putting a half-finished basket of fries and a drink on the table. “So glad to see you!” Kate, for her part, is carrying a glass each of beer and wine. Ellie hugs both of them with honest gratitude to see them okay.

“And who’s your—“ Jordan starts, but when he looks at Abby, he frowns. Then he cocks his head. “Wait a minute, you’re…”

Abby’s half turned, resting one muscular arm on the back of her chair. She smirks. “Abby.”

“Oh my god, from the out guard! You were one of Isaac’s in-group! I never expected to see you here!”

“Yeah, well, a lot’s happened.”

“Is it true that you fled because Isaac was killed?”

“What?” Abby asks, seeming almost offended. “No, not at all.”

Sarah smacks Jordan’s arm. “Can we go sixty seconds without you interrogating?” She shoots Ellie a look.

“Yeah,” says Ellie, “I remember that, actually.”

Jordan gestures with upraised hands. “Oh, come on! A guy’s gotta know!”

“Well, let’s at least sit down, first,” says Ellie. As they’re finding places around the table, Ellie follows Abby’s eyes across the bar. Lev’s still at the Lowdry table, but Mrs. Lowdry is chatting with Old Lem. Lev is presently engaged with her daughter, Wendy.

Ellie cocks an eyebrow at Abby, who looks uncertain. She frowns slightly, and turns back to the table.

Sarah leans over and whispers something into Jordan’s ear. His face changes. “Oh, right…”

Everyone’s settled at that point, Ellie looks on curiously.

“Well,” says Jordan, scratching the back of his head, “first thing’s first. We heard about Clint.”

Ellie feels a chill. It dampens the atmosphere, but she’s able to hold it together.

“Yeah,” says Abby.

“You knew him, too?” Thomas asks her.

“I did.”

“Maybe you guys should come by our place sometime,” says Jordan, “we can swap stories. For now, though…” He picks up his glass of dark ale. “How about a toast.”

Ellie finds herself picking up her own glass, and raising it in the air. “To the stubborn.”

“To the handsome,” says Sarah.

“To the brave,” says Jordan.

“To the good,” says Abby.

The toast hangs, and it feels like enough for the moment. They all take a sip.

“So,” says Jordan to Abby, leaning onto the table with glint of charm in his eye, “come on, I gotta know. Why did you leave? How’d you wind up here?”

Abby returns his look. She considers, taking another sip of cider.

“Jordan,” says Sarah, “I’m getting the feeling—“

“It’s alright,” says Abby. “Just thinking about which parts I want to tell you.” She looks at Jordan. “You remember the chaos, from around that time, right?”

Jordan eye’s slip to Ellie for a second. “I know a bit, yeah.”

Abby eyes Ellie in disbelief. “Wait, what did you tell him?”

Ellie throws up her hands. “Almost nothing! He figured it out on his own!”

“What—“

“I told him I was in Seattle a while back, and he pegged me as one of the ‘trespassers.’”

Jordan taps his right forearm. “The tattoo.”

“Alright, Mr. Clever,” says Abby. “Here’s what I’ll say.”

She goes on to tell much of the story, including parts Ellie didn’t know, about their trip to Santa Barbara. She leaves most of what happened in that city untold, including how they escaped, which is only fair. She does tell him about how Ellie and Clint just showed up at Catalina one day. And their trip to Sacramento, and even the cure.

“No god damn way,” says Jordan. “So—“

“Do you mean that?” Sarah interrupts. Her voice is quiet, urgent, it’s a little hard to hear her over the chatter around them. There’s disbelief, but she wants to believe it. “You wouldn’t deceive someone about that, would you?”

“Look,” says Abby, “I’m not a scientist, but there were scientists there. They were convinced. They saved one kid’s life. He got bit, and he didn’t turn. Think about it,” she says, gesturing to Ellie, “they let Ellie go. They waited decades to find an immune person, but they let her go because the boy their cure saved became immune, too.”

Sarah’s eyes are moist, her fingers are covering her mouth. She turns to Jordan. “Babe, do you realize what this means? This could change everything!”

Jordan’s not really incredulous, he’s kind of shocked. He stares back at her, dazed. “Yeah, I… I heard rumors, these last couple weeks, but damn…”

They look at Abby and Ellie then, kind of just staring in wonder. Ellie feels herself starting to blush. She glances at Abby, smirking in spite of herself. “Well, don’t make it awkward or anything…”

There’s some laughter. “Yeah, but still…” says Jordan.

He’s not wrong. Ellie’s just decided it’s too much to think about, and she’s just going to watch how everything plays out.

The table is quiet for a little bit, and Ellie decides to bring them out of it.

“So what are you guys good for around here?” she asks Jordan.

“Huh? Oh, kind of boring, actually. I’m pretty good with tools, so I’m in construction.”

“That’s not boring,” says Ellie, “I love seeing new buildings pop up and get restored and stuff.”

“Yeah, me too,” says Jordan. “Never thought I’d see much more of that. Clemens says they’re talking about pushing out the walls in the next few years.”

Sarah smiles at him with a loving understanding. “Well, I’m not as good with tools, but I wanted to be near him so I’m in construction, too.”

“Ooh,” says Ellie, “tough work.”

“Sometimes,” she admits. “The other week Clemens had me hauling bricks up the hill.”

“Yeah,” says Jordan, shaking his head. “I was so mad when I found out. There were plenty of other things he could have had her doing, and he’s loading my ma’am up with bricks.”

Sarah rolls her eyes and shakes her head, mouthing _my ma’am._

“What about you two?” Abby asks the others. “Last I saw you guys, you were kids.”

“Nuh uh,” says Thomas, thinking. “We’d have been fifteen!”

“Well,” says Abby, smiling, “what are you up to now?”

“I help out the adjudicators. They call me a ‘clerk.’”

“Whoa!” says Ellie. “That’s an important job!”

“I keep telling him that,” says Kate, she gives him a teasing, loving look, rubbing his arm. “I could be with an adjudicator someday.” Thomas smiles reluctantly. “I help out Ms. Harwell with clothing repairs. She’s pretty chatty, but I can’t complain. I like it here better than Seattle.”

“How was Seattle, last you were there?” Abby asks.

Jordan and Sarah gives them the same story Ellie got in Portland. Things were getting better. Abby seems relieved. Jordan’s talking about a zipline they were setting up when Lev comes back.

“Abby,” he starts excitedly, then he looks at the newcomers at the table. “Hi,” he says brightly, then his smile fades.

Jordan seems transfixed by the scars on Lev’s cheeks. He looks at Abby.

“We met in Seattle,” says Abby. “And yes, it is a long story, for another time,” she emphasizes to Jordan.

“Right, okay. Well, that’s great. Tell you what, I’m going to get another round. Hey, you guys want one?”

Lev looks expectantly at Abby. “One’s fine,” she says.

As soon as Jordan leaves, Lev starts talking excitedly in low tones to Abby. Ellie leans in, and he includes her.

“I’m not sure how things work around here,” says Lev, “but I think I have a date.”

Abby is surprised, but Ellie cracks a grin. “Yeah, big man? Way to go!” She gives him a high five.

Lev smiles back, but it fades when he looks at Abby. “Is that alright?”

“Huh?” says Abby. “Alright? Yeah… I guess I just didn’t expect… with Wendy?”

Lev nods.

“This Wendy girl,” says Abby, shooting Ellie a look, “can she be trusted?”

“Dude, she’s fine. Come on!”

Abby’s smirking a little, too, now. “It’s fine, Lev, I’m just… You know what I’m being—“

“Protective, yes.”

“Yeah, well, tell you what.” Abby leans in. “Just go slow, alright? Not a good idea to rush these things.”

Lev nods eagerly. “I will, I promise.”

“Good stuff for some good folk!” It’s Cameron, carrying a big tray. He starts putting down dishes in front of them. The burgers immediately make Ellie’s mouth water. Lucas does them just right.

Lev plunks down in his chair excitedly. “Wow! It’s pretty big.”

Ellie’s is already in her hands. “Think you can handle that thing?”

He nods confidently. “Pretty sure.” He lifts the bun. “Not so much in the way of vegetables.”

“We had those earlier,” says Ellie.

“This is just what the doctor ordered,” says Abby, taking a huge bite. A highly satisfied expression comes over her face as she chews.

Jordan comes back with the drinks, and the atmosphere continues to climb. They swap stories about Jackson life and before. Eventually, Jordan starts asking about Lev’s time with the Seraphites with fascination. Abby is defensive at first, but Lev says it’s okay. The others listen with rapt attention while Lev tells them stories from the island, and Seattle.

“Hey,” says Abby to Ellie as Lev is explaining who White Dove was. “That thing from earlier…”

Ellie pops the last of a criss-cut fry in her mouth, wiping her face with her sleeve. “Oh yeah, what’s up?”

“I’m starting patrol tomorrow.”

Ellie’s eyes light up, then she starts thinking about that. “Is that a fact? Congratulations, dude. Nervous?”

“Not exactly,” says Abby, chewing on a fry of her own. She stops. “Alright, a little. Look, I’ve been doing guard duty for two weeks.”

“Light work.”

“And boring as hell. Jones knows my history, so when he saw I could take orders, he talked to Edna and said he’d give me a chance out there. I take it you don’t change jobs easily around here.”

Ellie eyes her, starting to feel where she’s coming from. “You’d be right about that.”

“So it needs to go well. Probably gotta get out of here, soon. And this is definitely my last drink.”

“No sweat. And don’t worry about it, you’ll do fine. Honestly, you’ll be lucky if you encounter more than a runner. Better get some snow gear before Winter, though. Gets damn cold up here.”

“Right,” says Abby, skeptical. “And what about you?”

“Huh?” Ellie replies, taken aback.

“When are you gonna get back out there?”

Ellie glances away, considering. It’s a question that’s been hanging over her head, and if she’s being honest, she doesn’t know how to answer. She knows what she wants Abby to hear, though. “Soon, probably.” She scratches the back of her head. “I’ve kinda been bumming it, huh?”

Abby considers her. “They wouldn’t partner us up, would they?”

Ellie smirks. “Why not? It’s lottery, dude, it’s gonna happen.”

“Oh boy.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“ _Fun?_ ”

“I know you miss the excitement.” There’s a tremor in Ellie’s voice at the word ‘excitement.’

Abby’s mouth is open, but instead of retorting, she studies Ellie, who suddenly feels small. Something she was hoping to avoid. And she goes on studying Ellie until Ellie’s about to protest, and Abby leans in and speaks in a lower tone.

“Ellie, I get it. I know you feel like you need to be the strong girl.”

Not expecting that at all, Ellie scowls. “What are you—“

“Ellie,” Abby says, “I said _I get it._ ”

Taken aback, Ellie falls silent.

“I…” Abby struggles with it. “I can only see it from the outside, but I know the road was rough for you. Worse even than for me. You don’t need to throw yourself back into it, I was just checking in on you. You don’t ever have to do it again if you don’t want.”

Ellie feels exposed, and she doesn’t like it, but Abby is not attacking her. “What else would I do?”

“I don’t know, you’re in with Maria, right? Probably whatever you want.”

“I feel like I need to be out there.”

“Why?”

“To keep Jackson safe.”

That gives Abby pause. “Well… okay, but you know what’s one advantage you have now that we haven’t had in a while?”

Ellie narrows her eyes.

“You don’t need to rush,” says Abby. Ellie doesn’t respond. “But if you do feel like it’s time, you ought to talk to Maria. I got a feeling there’s a reason that woman’s in charge.”

Ellie feels a stab of guilt at that. She still has not gone to see Maria in person. She knows she’s avoiding it because she hasn’t even called her in several days. She makes up her mind right there that she’ll see her in the morning.

“Thanks,” Ellie says simply. Abby looks like she’s expecting more, but it’s not forthcoming. She takes another fry and takes a bite out of it.

Then something catches Abby’s eye across the bar. Ellie looks, and sees Clement Whistler, a scraggly bearded guy about their age, one of the patrollers. He’s got a sizable circle of friends, but Ellie had never liked him that much.

At first Ellie thinks he’s looking at her, then she realizes he’s looking at Abby. It’s not hostile, but it sure as hell isn’t friendly. He doesn’t say anything, he just stares for a few seconds while he takes a drink, then turns back to the others in his booth. Abby turns around and finishes her fry.

“Getting much of that around here?” Ellie’s surprised how much that pissed her off.

“Not much,” says Abby, taking a sip of ale. “That guy trouble?”

Ellie considers. “I never really liked him. He gets into fights, now and then, but he stays out of lockup, far as I know. Like to think he’s smart enough not to pick one with you.”

“That’s not really the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ellie,” says Abby, leaning over, “if that were to happen, it doesn’t matter if I win or lose. I’ve never been the person to get in shitty scraps or anything like that. And I can’t afford to be that person in Jackson.”

Ellie frowns. She wants to argue but decides against it. She picks up a piece of pickle that fell out of her burger and pops it in her mouth. “Anyone gives you trouble, I’ll have your back. Guess that’s all I can do.”

Abby looks at her for a few seconds. In the end, all she says is “thanks.”

* * *

Maria presses her fingers into her eyes, leaning into her high-backed chair. Food supply is up, medicine is stocked, they’re getting new, useful immigrants every month, and the horizon is—thank God—clear of visible, substantive threats, but these are not the things the mayor gets to spend her time concerned with. Instead, she has to figure out what to do with Lem’s drinking problem, Tom Cowen’s alleged thieving, and the raccoon issue growing in the Southeast quadrant.

She spins around in her chair and looks out the window. It’s gonna be one of those cloudless, Summer-blue-sky days. She puts up a shadow of a smile. It always brings her some peace to look down on the town, see people milling about. Unafraid. Safe.

As mayor, one of the things she has never said out loud is that, in a way, it’s an act. Maria talks and acts as if the walls of Jackson are impenetrable, and the hard times are behind forever, and the way that things are inside those walls, as it always should have been, is normal. It’s a pretense that she has successfully suffused through the town. Fact is, though, she knows they’re not invincible, and she has to be the worrier-in-chief for Jackson. And that can be hard. But looking down, and seeing people being happy? That goes a long way to helping.

Which, of course, makes her think of Ellie. She curses quietly.

Now, she wouldn’t even have that much reason to worry about Ellie anymore, but the dang girl has stopped talking to her. She’s tempted to think her ungrateful, but that’s not it. All her life, Ellie’s scarcely had anything like a mother. It’s obvious to Maria, but sometimes she wonders how many other people see that. Maria knows she can offer Ellie a lot, and she’s willing, but Ellie has to want it too. She decides she’s gonna have to pay her a visit in the near future. In person. In fact—

At that, there’s a knock at her door. She looks at her notebook, but she’s nothing scheduled. The knock sounded somewhat familiar. Frowning, she calls for them to enter.

The door opens, and sure enough, it’s Ellie. Maria scoffs quietly. Sometimes this world has a way of making you shake your head.

“Well, look who it is,” says Maria, concealing her relief behind gentle censure. She rises to her feet and starts slowly around her desk.

After closing the door, Ellie stands in front of it, clasping her hands. She looks nervous, and sheepish. She’s always been so easy to read. Maria’s mother always told her that’s a sure sign of a person you can trust. “I was—“

“I’m sorry I didn’t come before,” Ellie says all at once.

That stops Maria. She puts a hand on her hip and chuckles. “It’s okay, Ellie. I’m just glad to see you.”

Ellie fiddles with her fingers for a few seconds. She’s thinking about something.

“Something on your mind?” Maria asks.

Ellie looks back up. After another second’s hesitation, she walks forward all the way to Maria and falls into her, wrapping her in a close embrace. Her head tucks into Maria’s neck, her hands clutched to her back. Ellie squeezes her.

Maria’s taken aback. Stunned for a second, Maria’s hands find their way around Ellie.

“Thank you for saying you love me.” Ellie’s voice is quiet, and laden with feeling.

Maria’s heart aches. “Oh, _Ellie_ , girl…”

“I didn’t know it, but I needed it.” Ellie sniffs, and Maria can tell she’s starting to cry. “Out there.”

Maria squeezes her back and kisses the top of her head. Her hair smells like dust and pine. Maria rests her cheek on Ellie’s head, her heart swelling. She hadn’t known how much she had longed for this.

They stay like that for a little while. Maria gently rocks them where they stand.

Eventually Ellie’s hands release, and Maria lets her stand up.

“Sorry,” says Ellie, wiping her eye, “that was a lot.”

“No,” says Maria, cupping Ellie’s cheek like she had so many months before. She strokes her cheek with her thumb, blinking slowly, to show Ellie what it had meant to her. “Never.”

Ellie’s embarrassed now, but it’s overshadowed by thankfulness. Obviously uncomfortable with all the emotions, she struggles for something to say. “Thank you for letting me go. For letting us go.”

“Well, I couldn’t have stopped you, in the end.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t make me sneak out.” Ellie taps her foot nervously. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. It doesn’t feel very good to sneak, I’ve decided.”

Maria tilts her head. “I’m glad you’re figuring things out for yourself, in your time.” She thinks a little more. “And that’s right. You’re not on anyone else’s time, not anymore.”

“Plus if I had,” Ellie says, her eyes lighting up like they do when she’s gonna say something from the heart, “I wouldn’t have had Clint.”

Being honest, Maria had not expected that. She searches Ellie’s face, hooking her thumbs into her pockets. “So you two really worked together, huh?”

Ellie starts nodding. She glances off. “I really put him through his paces, at first. But he was good for it.” She rubs her nose. “At first I thought he was taking it too seriously, like, he was just acting, you know? But time came when I realize he got it. How dangerous it was. How it needed to be. He had my back. He really did. He—“

Pain shoots through Ellie’s features and she turns away.

“Oh, Ellie…” Maria so wants Ellie to trust her, but she knows she can’t force it. When Ellie doesn’t continue, Maria gives her a window. “Why don’t you just say it? You know I’m the only one who will ever hear it.”

Ellie looks at her, brow pinched with hard feelings. “He didn’t need to die like that. He saw the shooter first, behind me. He pushed me out of the way. That’s how he was killed.”

Maria suppresses the wince. She gets that a little more than she wants to admit, and Ellie seems able to tell.

“You know about his sister?” Ellie asks her.

That makes Maria’s heart ache, too. So Ellie does understand. “I do, Ellie.”

Maria has interviewed every person who has ever come to live in Jackson. And it’s not just to find out how to put them to work. She wonders if anyone else appreciates that.

“It’s okay to feel some anger,” says Maria. “Just don’t let it bury everything else.”

“I know,” says Ellie. “I learned that before.”

She’s different, Maria realizes. She’s really changed. She’s not back to the old Ellie, but… She’s not just surviving. She’s growing. An old and harrowed hope is rising in Maria’s chest. She takes a deep breath. She’s not to cry in front of Ellie.

Still, concern grows on the girl’s features. Maria knows her eyes are glassy. She smiles. “Girl, I am so proud of you. Do you know that?”

For some reason, that really hits Ellie. Her features slacken. Maria can practically see the feeling pour through her body. Maria frowns, confused.

Ellie looks down, playing with her fingers for a second. She reaches up and takes her necklace into her hand. Maria hadn’t noticed it before that. It’s a locket, she realizes.

“Can I show you something?” Ellie asks quietly.

“Absolutely.”

Ellie doesn’t remove it, but steps forward. She opens the locket, holding it up so Maria can see.

For exactly one second, Maria doesn’t understand. Then she sees the resemblance. She gasps.

“Ellie! Where did you get this?”

“The Fireflies, believe it or not. Their commander gave it to me. Marlene had it, when—“ Ellie screws up her lips. “She had it when she died.”

Maria takes Ellie’s hands in hers and looks closer at the picture. “What’s her name?”

“Anna,” says Ellie.

Anna is a looker and it’s no surprise. What Maria minds more is her expression. Maria wagers the picture is post-outbreak, given her age. But her eyes carry a confidence, and a warmth. She’s unafraid. She’s got a little smirk on her lips. Maria would give a lot to know her, especially for Ellie’s sake.

She lets go of Ellie’s hands. “I’m glad for you.”

Ellie takes one last look at the picture and closes the locket. “Me too.”

Ellie’s eyes linger on Maria’s, and Maria realizes there’s double meaning there. Her chest swells again. She’s about to say something when Ellie speaks again.

“And can I be glad for you?”

Maria tries to parse that out. “Come again?”

“Any new gentlemen in your life I should know about?”

“You should know—goddamn, Ellie!”

Ellie’s wearing her characteristic smirk and it immediately reminds Maria of Anna. Maria _relishes_ that Ellie has not lost those other parts of herself. Which does a lot to undercut the indignation.

“Ellie, a dignified woman such as myself cannot just go around,” Maria grasps, “ _dallying_.”

Ellie laughs. She tilts her head, holding eye contact with Maria. “I’m serious, though,” she says in quieter tones.

A familiar ache pulses through Maria, another thing she doesn’t want Ellie to see. She shouldn’t have to. She turns, but some of it comes to her face anyway. When she looks, Ellie is concerned, but there’s courage in it. Blessed girl, she’s trying to help.

“Ellie, I…” Maria’s cheek pinches. She looks down. “Alright, Ellie. Alright. Truth is… it hasn’t been long enough.”

Ellie’s brow wrinkles and her features slacken. “Oh…” She starts shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I was presuming.”

“No, well… alright, a _little._ Your heart’s in the right place, of course. But a woman’s got to go through what she’s got to go through.”

Ellie adopts a look of understanding. “Yes, she does.”

It’s Maria’s turn to be taken aback. That is not the reaction someone in her position should be getting from a girl Ellie’s age. On her back foot, where she’s not used to being, Maria looks for words.

“Maria,” says Ellie, shaking her head, “it’s okay. Don’t worry so much about me. There’s nothing you could say that would change anything that’s happened. It sucks, sometimes,” she admits, “but I’m not fragile.”

Maria gives a little scoff. “Clearly not. But when the time comes,” she takes Ellie’s hands, “and it starts to be too much, you know to come back to the ones that love you, right?” Maria can see in Ellie’s eyes that while there’s still hesitation, there’s no longer any doubt who that is. “Because for a time, you seemed determined to go it alone.”

Ellie glances down, but meets Maria’s eyes again. “I promise.”

“Thank God almighty,” says Maria in frank relief. She squeezes Ellie’s hands and lets them go. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Ellie offers a somewhat rueful smile. Her eyes search about for a second.

“Is there some other order of business you came to talk to me about?”

“Yeah, actually.” Ellie scratches her nose. “I’m thinking of going back out on patrol.”

“Oh. Well. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Given all that stuff we just said,” says Ellie, characteristically evasive, “I think so.”

“Cause you don’t need to—“

“Honestly, I don’t think it will help so much, anymore. Spending all that time to myself.”

“Oh. Well that does make sense.”

“I wanted to ask though…”

“Hmm?” says Maria.

“Can the first run be with Abby?”

To that, Maria’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Still surprised, Maria decides to test her. “Ellie, you know patrols are all run by lottery. It’s what makes the system work. We can’t have people playing favorites.”

“Maria, I know that, I just… the first time… We’ve worked together. Some of the things we’ve been through together… It will help. And not just that, I kind of want to break the ice. Plus I can show her the ropes, she’s worried—“ Ellie screws up her lips. “Damn it, Maria, do I have to get down and beg? Come on!”

“No,” Maria concedes, laughing, “no, you do not. I’ll talk to Jones. But as far as ‘showing her the ropes,’ you know she’s on her first run today.”

“Yeah, kind of makes me wish I’d thought of this earlier.”

“What is it she’s worried about?” Maria asks with a tinge of authority. Sounds like something she should know.

“Look, I get why you’re asking, Maria, but Abby and I have developed a certain… trust, and I’m not going to jeopardize it, alright?”

“Okay. Okay, that’s fair. When, then? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna spend today getting my gear straight.”

“Okay, then. I’ll make the calls.”

“Thanks.”

Ellie lingers, and there’s something there, but she’s not giving voice to it. Before Maria decides she ought to just ask, Ellie moves and embraces her once again.

“Oh…” says Maria, hugging her back. Just slightly shorter, Ellie’s head fits perfectly into her neck.

“I love you, too,” Ellie whispers. “Just know that.”

Maria makes a sound, exhaling, and holds Ellie tighter. And she lets her. Feeling a fulfillment she hadn’t dared hope to feel, almost out of nowhere, Maria smiles.

“Now this, I could get used to.”

“You know, it’s a lot easier without the words, Maria.”

“Yeah, but they make it so much more tender.”

“Ugh.”

Maria smiles, and holds on to her hard-won girl for just a little longer.


	31. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Room for a little more action in this story! It came out… anyway, I like it. Hope you do, too.

Bunker East, as it’s called, is a one-story building with corrugated aluminum walls, maybe twenty five feet long, nestled against East Gate. It serves as a break area for the guards, but because of its size, it’s also used as a meeting area and houses desks and files for leadership. So it’s kind of headquarters for them, too. Abby’s taken her mid-shift meal there a few times, when stationed nearby.

So when she walks in at 5:00 AM on the morning of her shift to find only Jones inside, she’s surprised.

He looks up from where he stands behind one of the desks, looking over some paperwork. “Andersen. Punctual. Good. Come on over.”

Suddenly a level more nervous, Abby keeps her expression level, closes the door behind her, and walks around the long table in the middle of the room, over to Jones’ desk. “Sir? I thought the others would be here.”

He examines her for a moment. “After collecting your horses, rally is in front of the gates. You’ll be rolling out of North today, in fact, with Whistler.”

Abby’s stomach twists. Clement Whistler? On the first day?

“He’s one of the day shift captains. Good for showing you the ropes. That a problem?”

“Not on orders, sir.” She second guesses herself. It’s a Firefly saying basically meaning _not if you’re ordering me._

Fortunately, Jones chuckles. “Good attitude. Whistler’s shrewd, to be fair. He’ll get you out and back safe, though. Just about no trail out there he hasn’t run under me.”

“Sounds like a valuable trainer.”

“Indeed.” Having been glancing down and shuffling papers here and there, he lays the page in his hand down and walks around the desk, stopping in front of Abby. He considers her. “You look like you’re struggling not to salute.”

“Old habits, sir.”

He smiles. “Your discipline is obvious, Andersen. And we value that here, but we are a bit different, I surmise, from the Fireflies.”

“In a lot of good ways, sir.”

“Easy on the ‘sirs,’ I get it.” Jones is maybe 45, still muscular. He’s got a band of gray hair on the sides of his hair, the top close cut and parted. Neat. He’s honestly pretty attractive to Abby, a fact she instantly decides never to tell anyone. “Any bad ways?”

Abby frowns. Good leaders ask tough questions. “Ah… Well,” her cheek pinches, “it’s part and parcel with why we came here… but if there were ever a major attack on the city, the organization level… it’s mostly civilians here, after all…” He must know what she means. She doesn’t really want to give voice to it, seems unnecessary, to speak that kind of ill. “I mean, the bakery was packed when I walked by yesterday…”

Jones smirks. “You sound like me.”

That surprises Abby.

“I’ve been working Maria’s ear to establish militia, so we’re not vulnerable to some kind of emergent assault. Some sizable party does move in our direction, patrol will sniff them out, sure, but won’t give us the time we need to train hundreds of folks around here how to use guns and follow orders.”

Abby’s cheek pinches again. “Not pleasant to think about. Impossible to know how likely.”

“Therein lies the rub. No matter, that needn’t be your concern. I’m just curious about you. What rank did you hold in the Fireflies?”

Surprised again, Abby answers honestly. “Third. Sorry, short for ‘guard third.’ It’s like a lieutenant captain, I suppose.”

“So like my second, interesting. And the WLF?”

Now Abby’s taken aback. “You know about that?”

“Andersen, it’s been almost two years since Tommy and the others dragged their beaten asses back here from Seattle.”

That stirs up an ugly feeling in Abby and she has to look away.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” He gestures but doesn’t touch her arm. He means it. “I’m sorry, that was cavalier. I don’t need to investigate you, not that way. What was your rank?”

“Guard Superior,” Abby replies, voice a little tight. “Basically one up from a guard.”

“But you knew the leader. Isaac, right?”

Abby nods.

“How does that…?”

Still allaying the feeling that had come up, Abby has to think for a few seconds. “He had an informal network of people he trusted. He liked having them in various levels of command. He didn’t trust easily. Not at all. He trusted me, though. I did things for him, sometimes.”

Now Jones’ brow is wrinkled, head tilted. No hostility, but totally serious. “Anything you regret?”

Abby swallows. “Sometimes.”

Jones makes a gesture of dismissal. _That’ll do._ “You don’t miss it, do you?”

If this goes on much longer Abby is gonna tear up. “Not that part, no.”

“Okay. That’s fine. We don’t walk backward into the future.”

Honestly confused, Abby looks at him.

He chuckles, absurdly. “Sorry, mom used to say that. Anyway, I’ll not judge you for the past. I like the cut of your jib, Andersen. And I know you’ve got more know-how than most of my recruits. And you obviously take conditioning seriously.” He gestures to her arms.

“Like I told Maria,” says Abby, “I don’t let my people down.”

He nods. “And what’s your position on risks?”

Abby has to think again. Jones asks good questions. “You pick the right ones.”

He nods. “Good answer. That will do, I think.” He turns around and walks behind the desk. “I don’t send anyone out there I don’t have some amount of understanding of. This work, under right practice, is not dangerous. But you do need to be prepared.” He glances up at her. “Something I suspect you are readily capable of.”

“You’d be right, sir.” Abby hesitates. “Jones?”

He smirks. “Jones is fine. Practically my first name. But if you do call me Timothy,” he wags a finger at her, “I may be cross. Go on, now.”

“Thanks, Jones.” Abby has to suppress the urge to salute as she turns to go.

* * *

Charlemagne, Charlie for short, is a muscled but easy going mount, a mature Bay. He carries Abby up the crumbled mountain highway in steady, plodding steps, a sheer slope of dirt and rocks to the right, and a steep drop off to the left, barred only by a wobbly old barricade of rotting wooden pillars with sheets of folded steel connecting them. They’ve been climbing out of the valley basin all morning, and now several snowy peaks are in view, even in the height of summer, crowning mountains draped in evergreen forests. A river runs white and strong at their base, far below, its roar a minute whisper at this distance. The sun is yellow and bright, by now it’s probably after 9:00.

Abby likes the feeling of being on a horse. When she was younger, before even Salt Lake City, in Angole, North Texas, she had learned to ride on the Firefly base there. They’d had a lot of horses. She’d loved it, actually. That was a good time. Her mother was even alive for part of it. Later in Salt Lake City, and in the WLF and after, she’d scarcely ever had the chance. She finds herself settling back into it quickly. She give’s Charlie’s neck a little stroke.

Her partner is not as easy to get used to. When Clement’s not directing her to do something, he’s offered her little more than critical observations and wordless smirks. Fortunately, Abby’s come a long way in managing her anger. If he pushes the envelope much farther, though, she’s going to have to set some boundaries.

They reach a level off in the road, probably to the horses’ relief. A mountain town opens up before them. A wood sign on the side of the road reads ‘Owl’s Head.’ There’s a lot of low, wooden buildings, but what stands out the most is the wooden bell tower, four or five stories tall, in the middle of town.

Clement surveys the town before them. His long, straight brown hair hangs messily, reaching his shoulders. He’s got a red bandana tied as a headband, and he’s wearing a green canvas coat. It’s cooler up here, but Abby’s managing in her preferred layered tank tops.

He turns to her, wearing his perpetual smirk. “Excited yet?” His beard is sparse. Abby wouldn’t advise it, herself.

“This is a regular route, right?” she asks. “Get many infected, anymore?”

He cocks his head. “Town’s mostly clear. Never know when they’ll wander down out of the hills, though. The hell knows where they keep coming from.”

Abby can’t tell if he’s earnest or if he’s just trying to intimidate her, but she’ll be on alert either way.

They pass the first buildings, some humble wooden houses and what looks to be a general store. The streets are paved, but cracked to hell. Bushes and tall, yellow grass dominate all spaces untouched by concrete. Even the road, in some places.

“You know it’s not a sure thing, right?” asks Clement, eyes narrow. “You, out here.”

“I’m aware.”

“We don’t give just anyone who thinks they’re tough run these trails. This job is important.”

“I’m not just anyone, and I understand important.”

“Is that so?” Clement pretends to surveil the buildings around them. “So why’d you leave the Fireflies? Was that not important?”

The coals of anger redden for a moment. “We did what we set out to do.”

“Right,” he replies in a tone that suggests that’s bullshit, “and they had no more use for you?”

“No, but they let me go anyway. I worked hard, while I was with them.” She turns to him directly. “I don’t really know what you’re getting at. You’re aware I grew up in the Fireflies, right?”

“Easy now,” he replies, with a dangerous undertone.

Abby turns away, focusing on her breathing like Townes taught her. Thankfully, they ride on in silence for a bit. Other than the sound of birds, the town is silent. Seems unlikely they’re going to run into infected.

“So what’s with you and the kid?” Clement asks.

Abby’s hackles rise, but her features stay even. “We look out for each other. We’ve traveled a lot together, since Seattle. That’s it.”

“Those scars on his cheeks,” says Clement, with eyes that make it clear he’s trying to get under her skin, “I heard he was one of those fanatics.”

A spasm goes across Abby’s face. She cocks her head. “Not anymore. And that story will stay between me and him. He’s like a brother to me, now. You got any younger siblings?”

Still eyeing her, he nods.

“Then be careful what you say about him.”

It’s her first open challenge, but if it was what he was looking for, he doesn’t press it. Infuriatingly, he smirks again, and turns back to the road in front of them.

They’re coming up on the bell tower building. It’s two stories, and pretty long. Abby sees a sign reading Weathervane Hotel. The first floor windows are all boarded up.

“Let’s tie up,” says Clement.

They dismount near the base of the tower. Next to it, there are tall, wooden double doors with big glass panes leading into the building. It appears to be the main entrance.

“Where’s the checkpoint?” asks Abby.

Clement points up to the top of the bell tower. He walks up to the double doors and pulls them open, walking in without hesitation. Abby follows.

It’s the lobby of the hotel. Everything’s made of various types of wood. There’s a long counter along the back with old fashioned tills, various rotting rugs and furniture, a couple wooden tables, and a large elk head mounted above a huge, cobblestone fireplace. There are uncovered windows higher in the room, and it’s fairly well lit.

Clement walks around a corner on their left. This section of wall is a different type of wood. Abby follows. There’s a door set into it, around the corner. It also looks more old fashioned, like the rest of the building was built around this structure sometime later.

“The tower?” Abby asks.

“That’s right.” Clement is standing in front of the door, but he doesn’t open it.

“What’s up?”

Clement looks her face up and down. “There’s a wing,” he inclines his head, “back a ways.”

“What about it?”

“Only part of the building we never cleared.”

If he’s waiting for something Abby doesn’t know what. “Is there a reason to?”

“Bound to be more supplies. Clearing infected can only make the area safer.”

“Do you really think we should?” says Abby.

“Are you scared?”

That doesn’t make Abby angry, just annoyed. Of course she is, but it also has nothing to do with it. It’s not how she makes decisions. She can’t afford for it to be. And if he were to say he weren’t scared, it would say a lot about him.

“A few hours ago, Jones asked me what I think about risks, and I told him ‘you pick the right ones.’”

He looks her face up and down. “And?”

She turns, exhaling in exasperation. She knows he’s not going to stop testing her until he’s satisfied, so they should probably just get it over with. “It’s good.”

He waits.

“Let’s clear it.”

Clement raises his eyebrows, then proceeds across the lobby and into a dim hallway, and Abby follows. Fifteen feet into the hallway they turn on their flashlights automatically. The doors are all closed, and it’s pretty dark. They walk on for a little while, taking a couple turns through the long building. They reach a T intersection. Light filters in through the cracks in the boarded windows in front of them. To the left is a single hotel room and a dead end. To the right are a barricaded pair of double doors. Clement looks at Abby.

Without further ado, Abby walks over and starts pulling down the furniture barring the door. Clement joins her wordlessly. After they pull away the last couch together, the new pile of furniture behind them blocks two thirds of the hallway, but there’s still room to pass, quickly, if necessary.

“Well,” says Clement, pistol in hand, “be my guest.”

Abby hates that she feels like she needs to impress this prick, but the fact is that she’s nervous. Then she thinks about the demolished building in Seattle that she and Lev had miraculously climbed down through after the skyway disaster, and there’s just no way this can be half as bad.

Abby pulls out her pistol, lays a hand on the doorknob, and pushes. The door opens easily and quietly, which is a good start.

The hallway beyond is much like this one. There’s enough light from the boarded windows to leave their flashlights off, which will help for stealth.

Since they’re ostensibly here to gather supplies as well as clear infected, Abby stealthily and firmly tries door handles as they pass them. The first one is locked, the second one barricaded pretty hard. The third one opens.

It’s pretty standard. A bathroom on the left, a bed visible. Abby steps inside. She notices a cabinet that might offer something, then her next step makes the floorboard creak. A beat later, a runner walks into view in investigate. It rears back in surprise. Abby points up and blows its dome.

Abby’s muscles are taut. The gunshot could draw more infected. She turns her head to listen for footsteps.

Clement’s right behind her. “Not bad.” Apparently he thought she was looking for approval, but she ignores him.

In the distance, she can indeed hear an agitated runner, and, unless she’s imagining it, some clicks. Clement catches on at that point. They wait a few seconds, but there are no sounds of approach.

Abby looks at him. “You still like this?”

“It’s what we do.”

They find a bottle of isopropyl and some decent clothes in the room, and move on.

Most of the doors Abby tries are impassable, but now she’s a lot more concerned about roaming infected. They approach an open area on the interior of the building. It’s a four way intersection with a large pillar in the middle. Light filters in from the outer hallways, so there’s still visibility. An infected walks into view from the left. Abby dips down and crouches behind a small table.

The runner plods on slowly, unaware. It passes behind the pillar. As Abby creeps up to the pillar, she sees another runner at the end of the hallway, but it’s not looking her way. She waits, and eventually she hears the closer one lurch away from the pillar a few steps, at which point she moves, gets behind it, grabs it and opens its throat. She lays the body down.

Clement moves to the wall by the hallway, just around the corner, out of view. Abby does the same on the other side. She peeks. The infected at the end of the hall is looking their way now. She looks around, grabs a small vase from a table next to her, and tosses it into the entrance of the hallway. It lands on the threadbare carpet with a bump and rolls to a stop.

The runner sees and hears, and to her relief, he seems to be the only one. Not fully activated, it moves forward to investigate. Clement looks bewildered. Abby’s got her combat knife out, and the longer they keep this quiet, the better.

It arrives at the vase and stares at it in fascination, only three or four feet away from Abby. All at once, she steps out from around the corner and when it looks at her in surprise, she rams her knife up under its jaw to the hilt. It dies instantly, its weight falling on her arm. Supporting it, she lays the body to the ground and retracts the knife, wiping away the blood as best she can.

A quick glance at Clement tells her he is impressed, but he quickly hides it. Abby proceeds down the hallway. Clement opens one of the doors behind her, but Abby shoots him a look. There are occasional clicks further in, closer now. She gestures with her head. He closes the door and follows her.

Around the corner, she finally spots it. It’s facing their way. She curses under her breath. It’s not time for this to get loud yet. She looks around. Some parts of the wall are damaged from previous fighting. She grabs a jutting piece of wood and removes it. It’s small, but probably enough for a clicker. Clement is concealed behind a barricade. She joins him there, then tosses the wood over it into the clicker’s line of perception.

It makes a startled sound, then indeed moves forward to investigate in its strange, unnatural gait. It finds the exact piece of wood and studies it, cocking its head in puzzlement.

There’s enough room for Abby to get behind it, but when she’s still three feet away, the floor creaks again.

It whips around, and a shock goes through Abby. Then, she does something she’s never done before, she rears back and pistol whips it as hard as she can in its fungal plating.

The blow lands and the clicker staggers back into the wall. She takes aim and puts three quick shots into its head, and it goes limp to the floor.

Sure enough, at that more runners sound up, in more than one direction. She can hear at least one clicker, too.

“Weapons up,” Abby growls.

Two runners appear at the end of the hallway and make her, but she can hear footsteps behind her as well, so she retreats into the hallway where Clement is, holstering her pistol and pulling out her assault rifle.

The runners are charging, as expected, but right before they enter view Abby hears a clicker turn the corner behind them. She looks back at it. “Clement!” she barks.

The runners burst around the corner and Abby goes into drive mode. The assault rifle starts barking, in burst fire mode. The first takes two in the chest and one in the face, the next takes three in the torso, and the last takes two. The first two go down but the third is staggering toward her still. She gives it a powerful kick to the chest and it lands on its back, she puts another burst into it and it’s down.

The clicker is screaming now and flailing toward Clement. He’s got his shotgun leveled at it, and waits until it’s almost on him to pull. The pellets fill the clicker’s chest, and it spasms and goes down.

There’s more screaming behind walls, in the rooms around them, there’s pounding on doors. It’s unnerving, but those infected shouldn’t be a threat. The problem is the noise they’re making.

“You giving me orders now?” Clement asks her.

It’s absurd to Abby. “You let me lead, and now is not the time—“

More footsteps are approaching.

“I say we take one of these rooms till it quiets down,” Clement says.

“They could trap us in there—“

Abby is interrupted by three more runners turning the corner, which is manageable, but then she hears the distant grunt of a bloater. A quick glance at Clement says he heard it, too.

The runners make their appearance behind them, Abby turns and starts firing. They go down, the last one getting within ten feet of them, but it also drains Abby’s clip. More clicks from the same direction they came from.

“Come on, motherfucker!” says Clement, shouldering his shotgun. The clicker appears, hesitating at the entrance to the hallway. Then there are heavy footfalls, and Abby and Clement look the other way.

In the T intersection where Abby killed the first clicker stands a massive bloater. It’s close to seven feet tall, limbs swollen with age. Half its vile, fungal flesh is twisted and blackened from some old burn wound. It gurgles a few muted clicks, then issues a deafening roar at them.

“Clicker!” calls Abby, desperately reloading her rifle. She locks the mag in and chambers the first round, but right as she’s about to pull the trigger, she sees the bloater lobbing an acid pod at them. “Shit, dive!”

Abby does, but Clement doesn’t follow in time. The pod bursts right next to him in a cloud of acid.

“Agh!” Clement cries out, stumbling forward onto the ground. His left hand and part of his face are already turning an angry red.

The clicker is now staggering forward, flailing toward Clement. Abby scrambles to her feet just as it’s about to fall on him. She grabs it around some ridge of corrupted flesh on its shoulder and yanks hard, throwing it onto its back. She manages to put all three bullets into its face, and it spasms and goes limp.

Clement climbs to his feet, looking furious. He’s lost his shotgun. The bloater is advancing, and Abby starts pelting it with AR rounds that sink into its torso plates, but it doesn’t even slow it. In fact, it starts to charge.

“Run, _run!_ ” she shouts.

They turn at the same time and sprint back the way they came. They pass through the open area with the central pillar and turn back toward the entrance to the wing. There’s a massive crash, and Abby turns to see the bloater has collided with the pillar, blasting through the wood and drywall, stopped only by the central support beam. It can still hear them, though, and it resumes its charge. Infected are screaming behind many of the doors now.

They’re tearing back the way they came in a full sprint, but the bloater is surprisingly fast. They reach the double doors and Clement goes to open them, but there’s something wrong with the handle. Abby turns, the bloater is within line of sight.

“Fuck, hurry!”

“It won’t fucking open, shoot it!”

Clement backs away but Abby doesn’t bother with her gun, she moves forward and puts all her weight into a kick near the door’s latch, and it flies open with a bang. Clement rushes through, and Abby follows. Right as they’re about to reach the intersection leading back to the lobby, there’s a flicker in the corner of Abby’s eye, a pop and a rush of air.

“Gah!” cries Clement, in the middle of the cloud. Abby squeezes her eyes shut but has to move through it herself. The acid mist sends a sharp sting across her whole face and both of her arms.

Outside the cloud, they cough and spit. Abby opens her eyes, thankful to still have her vision, until she realizes where they are.

Disoriented, they stumbled through the acid straight into the dead end she had noticed earlier.

There’s a terrible crunching sound as the bloater pushes through the still closed double door as if it were an annoyance. Blocked by the barricade they downstacked earlier, it pushes mightily against it with its arm, sending furniture flying. Abby ducks under a chair. By the time she gets her feet, she can tell it’s about to charge again.

Heart pounding, she drops her assault rifle to the ground and pulls out her shotgun. With no time to waste, she aims and starts blasting as the four hundred pound monstrosity pounds up the hallway at them.

Her rounds don’t stop it and Abby finds a wall at her back. Clement is next to her, looking terrified. Right as the bloater is about to reach them, Abby sees her dad’s face.

She twists desperately, and then is slammed by a massive impact and a deafening clamor that lasts for several seconds.

She’s completely disoriented. She almost loses consciousness, but hangs on. She’s on the ground. She rolls to the side and there’s a shooting pain in her left shoulder. She looks, and a sharp piece of wood is sticking out of it. She yanks it out and tosses it. She manages to find her feet.

She’s in a small square room. There’s a light source somewhere far above. The bloater is there, too, and it also seems stunned by what had just happened. There’s a gigantic hole in the wall the bloater had just bowled through. Clement is laying in the hole. Abby had been pushed all the way through. He’s conscious, struggling to his feet.

Then the bloater grunts, and turns to them. There’s a staircase next to Clement. He and Abby see it at the same time.

Instinctively, they scramble to their feet and sprint for it, tearing up the stairs as fast as they can. The bloater follows them. It falls onto the lower stairs, perplexed, but it only deepens its rage. It finds its feet and begins climbing up after them, bellowing mindlessly. The old wooden stairs creak in protest at its weight. It grabs the hand railing, which snaps like a toothpick, but it keeps climbing.

Abby’s heart is pounding. She doesn’t know what happened to her shotgun. She doesn’t even know if she has enough ammo to take this monster down. So they just keep climbing.

Abby realizes they’re in the bell tower. At the tenth or twelfth landing, they run into a gate. It separates the rest of the tower from the final stairs to the top, where old wooden beams support a huge bronze bell. Clement tries the door, but it’s locked. He starts digging desperately for the keys. Finally finding them, he pulls them out too quickly, and they fly into the air, over the railing, and down through the empty air below.

For a second, they’re both nonplussed. Abby looks at the gate. It’s old, but it’s steel. They can’t force it.

The bloater roars again, still climbing. It’s only a floor away from them. Clement looks at Abby, scared, stunned. He doesn’t know what to do. Neither does Abby.

She looks, and there are number of long, heavy looking ropes suspended from the bell structure at the top. Without thinking, she picks one, puts a boot on the railing, jumps and grabs it.

She swings, slamming into the railing opposite, then swinging back. “Come on!” she calls to Clement.

He looks at her like she’s insane, and maybe she is, but the bloater is closing in on Clement.

“I can’t fucking do that!” he cries desperately.

“You have to!”

The bloater reaches the landing below Clement, growling and reaching for him.

“God damn it!” Abby bellows. She uses her legs and swings.

With all the force she can summon she plants both her feet into the bloater, kicking it backward. It stumbles back into the landing against the wall. It roars in anger.

It searches about for Abby and seems to sense her. It reaches out for her.

Abby starts swinging toward it again, unable to stop it. She rears back her legs and tries to kick it again, but this time she’s unable to force it back. Its bloated hand grabs her pant leg by the thigh.

“Fuck!” she cries.

As it moves forward to get a better hold of her, its body pushes against the hand rail, which snaps with a series of loud cracks, then falls into the open air.

It doesn’t let go of her, and Abby is jerked hard as it rips a huge chunk out of her pant leg. Her hands burn with their strain on the rope, but she manages to keep hold.

The bloater tumbles through the air bouncing off the stairs, taking huge chunks of wood with it, spinning another way and hitting the stairs on the other side, before finally crashing down into the wood planks at the bottom. More wood clatters to the bottom, and then for a few seconds, it’s silent.

Clement and Abby look at each other in disbelief. Then there’s a groan. Down below, the bloater, stunned by the fall, is rousing itself. Abby looks at Clement.

“We’re going to half to—“

But she’s unable to finish, because there’s another loud cracking sound from above, and Abby drops six inches. She freezes, and looks up.

The old wood of the large beam supporting the massive bronze bell atop the tower is splitting. For a fraction of a second, she knows she needs to swing to safety, then the beam gives way entirely.

The rope goes slack and she starts to drop. She shouts in terror and desperation. Twisting in the air, she sees a handrail within reach and she manages to get her arms over it. It slams into her upper chest heavily and there’s a cracking sound, but the rail bears her.

The bell sounds deafeningly as it falls and impacts pieces of wood. Debris is falling everywhere. Something heavy barrels into her wounded shoulder, causing her to yelp, but she keeps her hold. She feels the air inches behind her displaced by the movement of massive object. Moments later, there is a colossal explosion of sound from below.

Seconds pass, and Abby is just clenching the handrail with all her might. She’s close to snapping it herself. Her face is wet and she realizes she’s crying. But she’s alive.

Panting, eyes wide, she gets a leg up on the corner of a step, then the other, then throws herself over the railing onto the stairway. She looks up and sees Clement, a story up from her, staring. He’s dumbfounded. Stunned, he starts descending the stairs toward her.

Shaking, Abby finds her way to her feet. She puts a trembling hand on the railing and peers over it.

For the first time since ‘entering’ the tower, Abby feels a familiar wave of vertigo at the height. Far below, she can’t make sense of what she’s seeing for a second. When she does, her stomach lurches.

Clement approaches behind her. He’s still stunned, and neither of them have anything to say. They climb down the stairs. At a couple places where the bloater had impacted them the stairs are severely damaged and they have to jump a short ways, but the remaining stairs hold up.

At the bottom, they’re greeted by a tremendous mess of dust, broken wood, and blood sprayed over everything.

The gigantic bell, probably over a thousand pounds, had landed on the bloater’s upper torso and completely collapse it, half burying it under the floorboards of the tower. Its legs jut out at strange angles.

Still with nothing to say, Clement walks forward and bends down, picking something up. After a second, Abby realizes it’s the keys. He walks over to the door, inserts a key, and opens it. Abby follows him, and they’re back in the well-lit lobby.

For a time, the only sound is their mutual panting. Abby’s hands are still shaking. She places them on her hips.

That was so fucked up. That might be her new number one near-death experience. Top three, at least.

Suddenly, Clement rounds on her and grabs her by the collar. “What the hell was that?”

Abby’s speachless for a second. “What the hell was that?” She frowns. “What the hell was that? I don’t fucking know, Clement. A fucking shitshow, I guess! Get your hand off me!” She slaps it away.

“That’s how you handle infected, Abby?” Clement’s eyes are wild. He’s off balance, it’s obvious, but he keeps pushing. “Because that was insane.”

“I didn’t even want to go in there!” Abby retorts loudly. “You practically made me. _You’re_ leading this patrol!”

“Didn’t stop you from giving me orders in there.” There’s a danger in his eyes, like he wants her to give him a reason.

“It was life or death!”

“Yeah?” he says. He rubs his chin, eyes darting about nervously. “Life or death, huh? Like with Joel?”

That brings Abby to a full stop. A familiar chill creeps into her gut. She goes to respond, but no words come out.

“Joel used to be one of our best. Tommy, too.” Clement’s grimacing, but his eyes are… terrible. Rage, fear, sadness. “Till you came around.”

Abby’s lip trembles. If she balls her fists any harder she’s going to pull a muscle. She takes a few breaths.

She reaches out and grabs him by his collar, pulling him close. His face contorts like he’s going to try something, until she speaks.

“Have you talked about Joel with Ellie?”

He looks her face up and down, curling his lips.

“Would you say that if Ellie was right there?” Abby points.

He has nothing for her but hateful look.

“Because I talked to Ellie,” says Abby. “About Joel. And if you fucking can’t…” Abby’s too angry to continue speaking. She shoves him away.

“You’re a killer,” he sputters.

“Takes one to know,” says Abby. This fucking kid has no business being in charge of others. Abby takes a deep breath. She has to let this out. “Why don’t you just fucking admit you hate the fact that I just saved your life?”

“Yeah?” he says. “Yeah? I wonder—“ He reaches and pulls out his knife, moving toward her.

Abby holds up a hand and starts backing up, but before she can speak, someone else does.

“That’s enough, I think.”

Abby turns and there’s an older man with graying blonde hair holding a rifle across his torso casually. She whips her pistol out of its holster and trains it on him.

“Easy now, Abby. It’s me. It’s Earl.”

Abby does recognize him, then. She’s never spoken to him, but he’s one of the older patrollers. She’s seen him in town before.

She pulls her pistol back smartly, pointing it into the air. She stumbles for a second. “What the hell?”

“Good question,” he responds easily. He’s standing in front of the door to the bell tower, like he’d just come through it. He looks over his shoulder to the carnage behind him. “Jesus,” he says simply.

“You were tailing us?” Clement asks. He’s still unsteady, Abby can hear the nerves in his voice.

“Not precisely. Scouting out new potential trails, but Jones told me to stay near your route. Check in, if anything seemed off. Sure ‘nough, I hear a couple gunshots and I think I ought to take a closer look. Seems good I did.”

Earl steps toward them casually until he’s the same distance they are to each other. “Whistler, put that knife away, now,” Earl continues in an easy tone.

Clement complies, still visibly nervous though he’s trying not to be.

“You know that’s your second strike,” Earl says to him. “And a bad one.”

“So what, then?” asks Clement.

“So I’ll join you two for the remainder of this patrol, and we can talk to Jones when we’re back in town. Alrighty?” he asks, looking at Abby.

Abby’s in no position to disagree. She nods.

“We can, ah… figure out a new checkpoint for this area later. And I’d like the story, while we ride.” Earl looks over his shoulder again. “I imagine it’s a keeper.”

“Sorry I trained on you,” says Abby.

“’Sokay. A good instinct. Thank you for not pulling the trigger, kindly.”

“I’m sorry, Earl,” says Clement with some difficulty. “That was… really bad, back there.”

“You’re apologizing to me?” Earl asks. “Let’s get moving.” He walks casually toward the entrance.

Abby and Clement meet eyes one last time, then move to follow.

* * *

Ellie’s kicked back, reading _Savage Starlight #12_ for the hundredth time. It’s one of her favorites, the one where she navigates through the space battle with slick starship maneuvers. She’s on the frame where she drives the _Nebula Seven_ right through the plasma of another ship that was just destroyed while evading Elek Calhoon’s _Predator_.

“So awesome,” she muses. “I’m definitely going to have one someday.” She has an absurd thought and her eyes widen. “ _Yeah_ , in my next life!”

As she promised Maria, she spent the day readying her gear for patrol. As she topped up her supplies and filled her pack like she used to, then came home and dismantled and cleaned all her guns, and filled her extra clips, her nerves actually decreased. By the time she was done, she knew she was ready for it. She’s looking forward to the look on Abby’s face when she realizes they’re going out together.

Then she starts thinking about dinner. She lays the comic on her chest. She could bum again at Dina’s. She scratches her head. Bad taste, probably, but she’s such a good cook…

As she’s thinking, there’s a knock on her door. She looks up, curious. She lays the comic to the side, climbs out of bed and answers it.

Abby’s looking worse for the wear. She’s got bruises and scrapes all over, and a large bandage on her shoulder. Her skin is puffy and reddish. She looks exhausted.

“Holy shit, dude,” says Ellie. “What happened?”

To that, Abby responds only with an open look.

Ellie frowns. “Was it bad? Was it Clement? Dude, ‘fess up—“

“I’d love to, but can I come in first?” Abby gestures.

“Yeah, yeah, come in.”

Ellie makes way and Abby walks in, looking around. She plunks down in one of the chairs around her little dining table, making it look tiny.

Ellie sits on the bed. “Abby, what _happened?_ You look… not great.”

“Do you promise to believe me?” Abby asks.

Ellie just frowns.

And from there, Abby just goes. Ellie is fully prepared to be angry with Clement, but she’s not surprised about his little test. It doesn’t sound so bad to begin with, but it gets a lot worse, really fast. By the time the bell drops, Ellie’s mouth is hanging open.

“That can’t be real,” she says.

“You promised to believe me,” Abby says, chuckling absurdly. “Have I ever told you I’m not wild about heights?”

“What about the bloater?”

“The bell popped it like a balloon.”

Ellie’s eyes go even wider. “Holy shit, that’s _gnarly_.”

“Yeah, well…” says Abby, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. “I figured it was over, and then when we’re safe again, Clement just flips out.”

“Like how?”

“He got all aggressive with me, tried to blame me for what happened. He—“ She screws up her face. She’s avoiding looking at Ellie. “He brought Joel into it.”

Instantly Ellie’s mood changes. “He what?”

Abby sniffs. Her face is level, but it’s getting easier and easier to see through. “He brought up what I did. He called me a killer.”

“Yeah, he fucking did?” Ellie says it almost like it’s funny.

“Look, I shut him down, Ellie. Then he got out his knife and started to come at me.”

“The piece of shit fucking pulled on you?”

“Yeah, and maybe it would have been bad, but all of the sudden Earl was there.”

“Huh?”

“Jones must have suspected there might be trouble. Had Earl stay nearby. He heard the action, and came to investigate. He defused things. He led patrol for the rest of the day, then took us back to Jones.”

“And is that piece of shit in jail?”

“Hold on, hold on. Jones did dress him down. Stripped him of patrol lead, said if he ever wanted to go out again he needed to apologize, which he… I mean he made an effort, I don’t care, I know what I saw. He doesn’t have the nerves he thinks he does. Which is a dangerous mindset.”

Ellie can’t help but think of that stupid fucking kid from Burley. The one whose life Clint had spared, just for him to have more people sent after us for no god damn reason.

“Jones said he’d send him out again, but only with Maria’s approval, and he sent him to see her right there. And he probably won’t go out with me anymore.”

“Okay,” says Ellie, still swallowing back anger.

“Jones talked to me, too. Said I should have known better. Said ‘we never run clears like that with just two people.’ Need at least a team, and of course I didn’t argue, that’s how it would have been with the Fireflies. I’m—“ Abby rubs her jaw. “He said I’m lucky to be alive and he’s right.”

Ellie just sits there with it, watching Abby, who’s avoiding her eyes. She’s not wrong, and it really undercuts the excitement of the story. Ellie frowns, and she realizes she’s angry that that was Abby’s first patrol. But she did survive. Ellie’s thankful. She decides that’s okay.

When Ellie doesn’t say anything, Abby finally looks up. She seem a little surprised, uncomfortable.

“That’s not what it’s supposed to be like,” says Ellie. “The point is to keep people safe, not put them in psychotic danger.”

“Right.”

“Can only get better from there, right?”

Abby scoffs. “I imagine.”

“Are you off duty for a while, then?” Ellie gestures to Abby’s battered body.

“I thought I might be, but Jones said I could go out tomorrow if I feel like it.”

“Well, what did you say?”

“I… maybe I shouldn’t have but I want to fucking impress him so I said yes.”

“You really feel like you can?”

“After a good meal and a long ass night of sleep, yeah, probably.”

“Good. We’ll ride at dawn, then.”

“Huh?”

Ellie grins. “I talked to Maria today. I’m going back out tomorrow. You’ll be with me.”

Abby stares. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I’ll show you how it should actually be. I know all about that shit, I did it for years. That alright?”

Abby’s head is cocked. Ellie’s getting better at getting her goat, and Abby acts like it annoys her, but Ellie’s not convinced. Abby scoffs again. “Like you said. Can only get better from there.”

Ellie smiles, not too big. “Good.”


	32. Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waited a long time to write some of the things in this chapter. I like how it came out.
> 
> I guess the only other thing I'll say is that this is the second to last chapter. Almost there.
> 
> Enjoy.

“Alright, first thing’s first,” says Ellie, “did you kiss?”

“Oh my gosh, Ellie!” says Lev, indignant. “I like that you are more open than Abby about these things, but don’t ask me that!”

“But that’s the most important part.”

“That’s why you have to wait for it.”

Ellie and Lev are back in Pearson Park. It’s Tuesday afternoon and they’re both off work. There are other people in the park, little Luther’s parents are watching him run around, laughing. But there’s room enough for private conversation.

“Alright, alright,” says Ellie. “At your own pace, then.”

“ _So_ ,” Lev starts, “I picked her up from her house after she had dinner with her parents. We…” He trails off, then glances at Ellie. “Do you think it means anything that they didn’t let me take her out for a meal?”

Ellie suppresses her smile. She’d forgotten all the hectic worrying and overthinking that comes with early dating. “I mean, it’s kind of a light date, but that doesn’t have to get in the way of anything.”

“Right,” says Lev, reassured, “that’s what I was thinking. So I took her down to ice cream. That is, I asked if she wanted ice cream and she said yes!”

Ellie is going to get good practice in suppressing laughter. Is this story going to end before the sun sets?

“So we were walking and just kind of talking, it was really nice.”

“What was she wearing, out of curiosity?”

“Oh, good question. She had a white blouse with carnations on it, and a pink skirt. She had her hair in two buns, and there were pink ribbons tied in it! It was so cute…”

This time Ellie has to turn away for a second, laughing in her throat. “Sounds cute.”

“So as we were walking, you know, I started to notice…” Lev looks sideways at Ellie, then he starts walking funny, and Ellie realizes he’s pantomiming Wendy. His hands are doing this kind of swing as he walks.

Ellie smirks. “You think she wanted to hold your hand, huh?”

“Is that what it seemed like?” Lev asks her with total attention.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Lev, it’s difficult if not impossible to read someone’s mind in a lot of situations, and with dating it tends to get even harder. My best advice is not to read into the small stuff too much. If you can’t really tell, just pay it no mind.”

“But what if I miss something important?” He’s really worried.

“Then you’ll probably catch it next time. Lev, you’re pretty sharp, I think you’ll notice when you need to.”

“I hope so…”

“What happened next?”

“We got ice cream! I like Darryl, he’s got a witty humor.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty funny.”

“I got strawberry, and she got chocolate chip. It was very warm out still, so I was sweating a bit.”

“I don’t think it was just the heat…”

“And the ice cream melted quickly! It was dripping out the bottom of my cone. Wendy kept dancing around as it dripped, she didn’t want to get it on herself. But she wasn’t eating it so it just kept melting! I was like ‘you better hurry, or you’ll have to drink it!’”

Ellie laughs. She cannot imagine a more wholesome date.

“After we were done—I love Darryl’s cones! They’re crunchy and sweet. Anyway, after we were done, our hands were all sticky, which…”

Ellie grins. “Which what?”

“Um,” he says bashfully, “anyway, I wanted to wash my hands and so did she. We knocked on Mr. Bennison’s door and asked if we could clean up. He said sure and let us in. I held up my hands and said ‘watch out, we’ve got ice cream fingers!’ Wendy did it too and he pretended to be scared. He was like ‘No! Stay back!’”

Ellie laughs again.

“It was silly and fun. So we washed up and resumed our walk. The sun was going to set pretty soon. I asked if I should get her home. She said we still had time, she didn’t have to get home before dark.”

“Yeah?” says Ellie. “She wasn’t ready to go home yet, huh?”

Lev smiles, blushing. “Yeah, that made me happy… Anyway, so we continue walking and talking, and on Townson Lane…” He bites his lips for a second. “I took her hand and she let me.”

“Ooh, smooth one, Lev!”

Totally blushing, he looks sideways at her. “You aren’t making fun, are you?”

“No, dude! Sounds like she liked it.”

“Yeah…” He seems to debate elaborating, but in the end he shakes his head. “So anyway, we held hands till we got back to her house. It was almost dark, we cut it a little close. But Mrs. Lowdry wasn’t upset. I told Wendy I’d call soon so we could hang out again.”

All in all, a very tame date, but seeing Lev’s huge smile and earnest feelings touches Ellie’s heart. “I’m happy for you, bud.”

“Me, too,” he says. He just stares down at the path they’re walking for a few seconds, smiling. Then something occurs to him. He looks up. “Ah, I forgot, I wanted to ask.”

“What’s up?”

“What about you, Ellie?”

And all of the sudden, it’s Ellie’s turn to be awkward. “What do you mean?”

Lev looks at her like she’s being coy. “What do you mean, ‘what do you mean?’ Have you talked to Maedlyn yet?”

Ellie feels herself redden a little. She’d told him about the whole Eilene episode. It’s been a week. She told Eilene she’d definitely come back, but more than that…

“Alright,” she sighs, “you got me. I’ve been procrastinating.”

“Procrasti…” Lev’s eyes widen. “Right, that means you’ve been dragging your feet! You should talk to her!”

“I haven’t seen her around…”

“What? That’s nonsense! Just call her!”

“I actually don’t have her number.” Ellie scratches the side of her head. “But anyway, I know where she lives, and I’d rather talk in person anyway. I think that’s just more my style.”

Lev nods. “So, are you proc… procra…”

Ellie rolls her eyes again. “Procrastinating.”

“Are you procrastinating because you are scared, or do you not feel ready?”

Ellie’s mind goes back to the courtyard in Hansen Manor, when she had, in so many words, asked Maedlyn if she was still interested, and she had turned the question around on her. Ellie had said yes. It had been easy, at the time. She bites her lip.

“Well, I _guess_ ,” she says, “if you’re asking, and it has to be one or the other, I must be scared, then.”

Lev is giving her a sly look.

“What?”

“I was just thinking,” he replies, “you’ve been scared many times in your life, and many times you have shown your capacity for bravery.”

Ellie doesn’t know how to respond for that.

Lev looks up, and smiles. “When the time comes, I bet you’ll know what to do.” He looks at her sternly. “And you better tell me all about it!”

With that, he turns around and just starts walking way. Ellie’s confused. “Hey, what…?”

When she turns, twenty feet down the path in front of her is Maedlyn.

Today she has a white country dress with strawberry red bands in the stitching. She’s clutching a bouquet of flowers. She’s got a knowing little smile.

Ellie just looks back, head cocked. She approaches. She wags a finger between Maedlyn and the direction Lev went. “Did you two plan this?”

Maedlyn chuckles. “No, but that would be devious, wouldn’t it?”

“Those for me, or something?” Ellie gestures to the flowers.

“For you? You wish. They’re—“ Maedlyn cuts herself off. She bites at her thumbnail. “Okay, you’re not allowed to laugh. They’re for my mother.”

Ellie doesn’t even want to laugh. That touches her more than she wants to admit. She makes a face, incredulous and endeared. “Oh my god, that is so sweet.”

Maedlyn shows chagrin, glancing to the side. “Oh, stop.”

“No, seriously!” Ellie thinks for a second. “Are they heavy?”

Maedlyn gives her a strange look, then remembers the eggs. She chuckles. “Oh, nice try. I’m not letting _you_ give my mother _my_ flowers. But, you may walk with me, if you wish.”

“I wish. I do wish.”

Maedlyn smiles like she can’t hold it back. Well, if she loves being adored, Ellie might just be good for it.

They stroll out of Pearson Park and through the streets of Jackson.

“Do you like flowers?” Ellie asks. “Or just your mom?”

Maedlyn gives her a look like she’s ridiculous. “Who doesn’t like flowers?”

“I mean, they’re great, but I wouldn’t buy them for myself. They’re like, frail, you know. They only last a day or two.”

“They last longer if you take care of them! And in any case, their _frailty_ , as you put it, has nothing on their beauty.”

“That’s a fair point,” says Ellie.

They’re on the elevated end of town. In an intersection, Ellie can see over many of the buildings on the south side of town. She’s able to pick out Hansen Manor. She looks around. It’s Summer now, but if everything were covered in snow…

“This is…” Ellie starts. She’s remembering after New Year’s, when they’d walked together, and Maedlyn had offered her much needed words of comfort, a kiss, and a promise…

Maedlyn looks at her. “Yeah.”

Ellie looks back, brow furrowed. “Do you really accept my apology?”

“Oh, Ellie,” Maedlyn says. She stops, looking over Ellie’s face and considering. “If you left town again, I might struggle. But you’re still here.”

“I’m gonna be here,” Ellie says, not having to think about it. “Jackson is my home, I’m okay with that now. I don’t want to be anywhere else anymore.”

Maedlyn considers that for a second, then breaks out into a smile. “I’m glad.” She resumes walking, and Ellie follows.

Ellie bites her lip for a second. “Well, if you’re glad…” She steps out in front of Maedlyn. “Would you let me take you on a date?”

Maedlyn’s eyes widen slightly. Ellie can tell she’s being coy, and it does drive her a little crazy, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s who Maedlyn is, she can tell.

Maedlyn does this thing where she twists back and forth where she’s standing. “Well… what would a date look like?”

“We could do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but I’m curious what it looks like to you.”

“Um…” There are lots of restaurants in town, some even Ellie hasn’t been to yet. There are places for dancing, but that’s… not so much Ellie’s thing. They could go to Clem’s barn on the West side, he lets folks pet the baby animals. That’s a pretty good one.

“Actually,” says Maedlyn, biting her lip. “I do have an idea. How’d you like to make me dinner?”

 _Uh oh._ Ellie can’t help think of the tomato sauce at Abby’s. She could legitimately blow it. Her mind races for a second, then she remembers Barney’s recipe.

“Yeah,” she says suddenly. “Totally.”

Maedlyn furrows her brow. “Are you sure? You seemed nervous for a second.”

“Yeah,” says Ellie, smiling. “I’ll have to hit the market, though, I need a few things.”

“Okay. Do you want to do that and meet me at my place at six?”

Ellie feels a wave of heat. Her place? “Um. I kinda wanted to say hi to your mom.”

Maedlyn does this thing where she smiles till her eyes close, turning away for a second. “Well, that _is_ sweet, but if you come with me to my mother’s, you’ll never make it to the market.”

“Mm,” says Ellie, “fair point. Six, then?”

“On the dot,” says Maedlyn, leaving Ellie with one last fetching smile while she turns to go.

* * *

Maedlyn stands in her kitchen, breaking pods of green peas into a bowl. She doesn’t know what Ellie will make, but it will be some kind of entrée. Peas should make a good side. She has the steamer out and ready to go for when Ellie gets there.

Maedlyn hums herself a song from her mom’s records. She sways back and forth as she works. She’s in a good mood, but it’s also to fend off nerves. It’s been _ages_ since she has had anything like an actual date. She bites her lip.

She’d been angry with Ellie for a long time. And sad for her. But after that conversation in the courtyard, everything changed. Maedlyn had assumed, if Ellie ever was interested in her, that she’d been hiding from her when she got back to town. Then there Ellie was on her doorstep, going straight for it. That must have taken guts. Maedlyn likes that. A lot. It hadn’t been easy for Maedlyn, either, though.

_We couldn’t have been happy._

That had downright stunned Maedlyn. Now and then, when Ellie’s talking, something comes out, powerful, right from the heart. A feature Maedlyn truly appreciates, but that had been hard to swallow.

Immune to the infection. The only hope of a cure. An organization older than Maedlyn or Ellie, still fighting, decades after everything collapsed. And somehow, they came together and made something that might change the course of history.

Another bright green pea pod snaps in Maedlyn’s hands, the peas spilling into the bowl.

Ellie wasn’t lying, but how is Maedlyn to believe that? Maedlyn’s not the only one. She’d overheard Jake and Erica talking in the market the other day.

“And you heard, right? That they made a cure out there?”

“Yeah, I did, but… no way, right?”

“Right! Like, I heard it from Ortes and he works with Maria, but still.”

“Did they bring any?”

“They did, but they say it spoiled. That they’ll have to get more.”

“Do you think that will really happen?”

“I dunno. I guess we’ll find out.”

_I guess we’ll find out._

Maedlyn frowns. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Whatever happened out there, Ellie came back to Jackson ready to be home. Maedlyn’s heart swells. Which is all she wants for her. Even if it’s not… Maedlyn blushes, scratching her cheek.

_We couldn’t have been happy._

Maedlyn cannot fight the smile. She’s not sure it ever occurred to Ellie, what she was implying.

That now, this time around, maybe they could. Be happy.

Maedlyn makes a musical little laugh deep in her throat. With Ellie, it had been a bit of whirlwind. Maedlyn didn’t know what she was doing, not if she were being honest. But it felt good, that’s for sure. It kind of… felt right. So could they, then?

“Oh,” Maedlyn says out loud, shaking her head. There’s no point in speculating, she learned that long ago.

There’s a knock at the door. Maedlyn starts, and looks at the clock. It’s just before six. She feels a wave of nerves. Oh no, that won’t do.

“Be right there!” she calls, hopping over to the full length mirror. Her dress looks fine, it’s the same one from earlier. Ellie had seemed to like it. Her hair’s in place. Time for her ritual.

She holds her right hand up in the air, closes her eyes, and spins around doing little jumps, inhaling and exhaling in practiced fashion. After completing her fifth circle, she gathers up all the nerves she was feeling in her right hand, and poof! Lets them go.

Works a charm, like usual. It’s her secret, of course. Not even her mother knows about it. Tina was the only one.

She gets her smile right. Okay, looks good. It’s not that it’s fake, it’s just her practiced manner of presenting the best side of herself.

She hops on over to the door and pulls it open. “Afternoon, sugar!”

Ellie’s surprised for an instant, then her lips curl into a smile.

_Yes, you have been restored to sugar status._

Her hair’s tied back for the first time that Maedlyn’s seen it, putting her full, gorgeous face on display, freckles and all. She’s got a soft plaid button up over a clean gray v-neck t-shirt. They might have even been ironed. She’s wearing well-fitting jeans with a brass belt buckle with an owl stamped on it.

“Well, if you aren’t looking sharp,” says Maedlyn, genuinely impressed.

“Well, I couldn’t disappoint.” Ellie hefts two bags she’s carrying. “Hungry?”

“And more by the minute,” Maedlyn replies. Ellie indeed gives her a second look at that, but Maedlyn reveals nothing.

It is so fun, playing with Ellie.

Ellie crosses the threshold and puts the two bags on the tiny kitchen table. “It smells nice in here.”

“Rose oil. My mother got me on it. You probably recall the lavender.”

“I can still smell it.”

“So,” says Maedly, half-seating herself on the edge of the table. “What are you making me?” Ellie shoots her another look.

She opens the first bag and pulls out a large pie crust in a glass baking dish.

“Whoa!” says Maedlyn. “You made that today?”

“Oh, I didn’t make the dough. That’d have been a disaster, probably. I got this from May’s. It’s great, you get the dish and everything, with a deposit. When you bring back the empty dish, you get a refund. And her crusts are _bomb_.”

“Mm,” says Maedlyn. “Wait a minute, you’re making a _pie_ for dinner?”

“No, silly. A quiche.”

Maedlyn’s brows shoot up. “Oh, that’s fancy.”

“You ever make those?”

“No, and neither does my mother… Funny, and I haven’t mentioned this, but she’s a great cook. She taught me everything I know. We still get together every week, usually Tuesday or Wednesday. She teaches me a new recipe and we have dinner together. She does it all from her head, it’s quite a talent. But she’s never made a quiche. Now that I think about it, she told me she was finally learning how last Fall, I believe Mrs. Davis was to teach her. But I never heard about it again.” Maedlyn chuckles. “Must not have gone well.”

“Well, I’m not a great cook. Ah…” Ellie kind of trails off.

“Okay,” says Maedlyn, “great start.”

Ellie smirks in chagrin. “Okay, I’ll just be up front with you. It’s true. Joel taught me to cook.” Maedlyn falters at that. She knows some of the story there. “And like him, I cook simple. _But,_ there is exactly one recipe he knew that killed every time, and that was Barney’s quiche.”

“Barney’s quiche?” Maedlyn asks. “Are there shamrocks in it?”

“What? No, dude! Barney is an old friend of his, from before the outbreak, actually. I’m telling you, this is my best.” She leans in, emphasizing. “I’m making you my best.”

“Ooh,” says Maedlyn. “I’m excited. Can I help?”

“Yeah, here.”

Ellie pulls out the ingredients and they get to work. They start by getting the pie crust into the oven so it can firm up. Maedlyn volunteers to sauté the onions and garlic, preferring it over the tough work of grating all the cheese. Allison’s goat cheese is delicious, Maedlyn’s happy when she sees that. Less when she sees Olmwood’s cheddar, though.

“Don’t worry,” says Ellie, smirking, “it tastes great in this recipe.”

Maedlyn pulls the golden brown crust out of the oven. “Mm,” she says, “it _does_ smell delicious.”

Ellie is rapidly chopping up the bunch of spinach she brought. With her hands, she mixes that around with the onion, garlic, and the cheeses in a bowl. She spreads it into the warm pie crust.

“You have a whisk?” Ellie asks.

“Of course.” Maedlyn pulls it out of the clay pot on her counter and hands it to Ellie. Ellie takes it, cracking a bunch of eggs into a bowl, and pouring in the glass jar of ice cold milk she’d brought. She adds in some salt and pepper, and is excited when Maedlyn confirms that she has some ground cayenne. She adds some of that, too, whisking it to a smooth consistency, then pouring it into the crust until it’s full. She tops off the concoction with some grated cheddar she’d set aside, to brown on top. Carefully, she opens the oven and places the dish back inside.

“It’ll be a while now, maybe 45 minutes.”

“Time to chat, then,” says Maedlyn.

“I bet,” says Ellie. She’s smiling, but she turns and walks past Maedlyn.

Maedlyn frowns. “Where you going, then?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” says Ellie, looking around Maedlyn’s place. “Just appreciating your place. Didn’t get much chance to, last time.”

“Mm?” says Maedlyn. She prefers Ellie’s eyes on her. “Gonna start rifling through my drawers?”

Ellie chuckles. “No. Why, would I find anything interesting?”

Maedlyn gives Ellie a look.

“I’m just teasing. I’m appreciating your décor.” Ellie’s eyes pass over the picture of Maedlyn and Tina again, but she doesn’t ask. Her eyes fall on the romance novel Maedlyn’s been working on. She picks it up. Maedlyn reaches out involuntarily, but it’s too late to intervene. “Whoa!” says Ellie, looking at the cover. “This looks racy.”

Maedlyn gives Ellie another look, taking it from her and tossing it on her nightstand, cover down. “For your information, it’s pretty good. And, frankly, not as racy as I like.”

Ellie has no witty retort for that. Is she blushing? Maedlyn can’t tell. She resumes her perusal. “I think I said it last time, but I really do like your place. This is new, right?”

She’s correct. At least, it wasn’t there last time she was here. It’s one of Mr. Caster’s landscapes. He paints them himself, and he’s quite talented. He makes a living off of it. It’s from somewhere in the area, Maedlyn’s not quite sure where. It depicts the beautiful plains of Wyoming, golden grass glowing in the sunlight, but the visible sky is darkened by clouds. In the background, a mountain stands, ominous and majestic, crowned with snow. It had spoken to Maedlyn immediately.

Ellie’s quiet, admiring it. “I really like this.”

“Me, too. It’s one of Mr. Caster’s.”

“I can tell. I’m a little surprised, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“You strike me as a city girl.”

“Oh, you’d be right. But you think I can’t appreciate this?”

“I could take you, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“I could take you out there. I think I know where he was when he painted this.”

“Oh,” says Maedlyn, shrinking back. “I think I prefer seeing it this way.”

“It’s really special, though,” says Ellie. She’s trying to convince her, seems like. “I can’t really put it to words, that’s not really what I’m good at. But being out there, in the open air. It’s magical. You’ve been out there.”

“I do know what you mean,” says Maedlyn, who finds herself crossing her arms over her belly again. “And you aren’t wrong. But I’ve also got some bad memories, too…”

“Don’t throw out the good with the bad,” says Ellie. “Do you ride? We could just go on a little jaunt. I’m not talking about going far off into the unknown and dangerous. And you’d have me to protect you.”

Those words, coming from Ellie’s lips, bring a little dancy heat to her belly and a swell in her chest, but it doesn’t entirely calm her nerves.

“I’m not trying to pressure you. Just a thought.” And with that, Ellie moves on.

Maedlyn’s shifting her feet, thinking about Ellie’s words, then she finds herself minding the sheen of Ellie’s hair and she allows the distraction.

“Can we talk about your hair?” Maedlyn asks.

“Huh?” Ellie half turns toward her. Her shoulder length hair is bound in a low braid above her neck. It’s not tight, but it’s snug, with no loose strands. It’s professionally done.

Maedlyn smirks. “I noticed you tied it up, and nicely, I might add. Was that for me?”

Now Ellie smirks. “Not exactly. Just thought I’d do something a little special. And I didn’t do it myself, I’m sure I’d screw it up if I tried. My friend Cat used to do it for me. Still does, sometimes, when I ask her.”

“I’m sorry,” says Maedlyn, “did you say _Cat_?”

“Yeah, she did my tattoo, too.”

“We’re talking about the same Cat, right?”

Ellie eyes her. “Pretty sure she’s the only one in town.”

“And you said you’re friends? For how long?”

“Do you want to just ask?” Ellie says, looking over her shoulder.

Maedlyn screws up her lips. _But that would be too on the nose._

“Alright, fine,” says Ellie, “we dated for a couple months, ages ago.”

“You went to your ex to do your hair?”

“Maedlyn, this is starting to sound like jealousy.”

At that, Maedlyn actually crosses her arms over her chest. Ellie’s right, of course, but she doesn’t like that she said it out loud.

“Look,” says Ellie, “we dated for a while, but it turns out we’re not… _that_ compatible. But we supported each other through some stuff. And we still talk sometimes. We’re cool, okay? Why, do you not like her?”

Maedlyn’s trying to be better than herself. “Well, not exactly…”

“Did you date her?”

“What? No!”

“Whoa, why the reaction?”

“I just…” Maedlyn chews her lip. “We’ve had a couple encounters and she… She’s got such _gall_ ,” Maedlyn says almost to herself. “I’ve gotten the impression she and I have some very different ideas about things.”

“Well,” says Ellie, “I believe you’re right about that. But if you got to know her, I think you’d find she’s a pretty remarkable person.”

_Oh, I think she’s remarkable, alright._

“I like the hair,” says Maedlyn. “She did a good job.”

“I’ll tell her when I see her,” say Ellie.

Maedlyn smiles, softly chagrined. She doesn’t hate Cat, not by a long shot. The girl has flirted openly with her in the past, and in such brazen manner. It trampled on Maedlyn’s preference for subtlety.

Maedlyn is reminded of the fact that Ellie’s actually been in Jackson for much longer than her, despite spending time away. She wonders who else she knows.

“And how about your other acquaintances? How about that Clint character? How’s he?”

Ellie is inspecting one of the wooden figures Maedlyn brought all the way from Paisley. She doesn’t visibly react.

“He hasn’t gotten you listening to that metal stuff, has he?”

Slowly, Ellie puts the figure down. She half turns, not looking at her. “Don’t talk bad about Clint.”

Between the words and the tone, Maedlyn’s belly tenses. Something’s wrong. Ellie’s mood has completely changed.

“I’m sorry?” Maedlyn says.

Ellie lingers there. Her brow is pinched, face mostly blank, but somber. She turns to Maedlyn, considering her. “Since you clearly don’t know, I guess I’ll just tell you. Clint didn’t make it back.”

Maedlyn’s stomach drops. She fumbles. “I—“ she stutters. “Oh my god, I didn’t know that, Ellie.”

Ellie stares back with the same pensive expression. Maedlyn wants to strike herself. Not only is that terrible news, it clearly matters to Ellie. It’s personal for her.

“Ellie, I am so sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s fine,” say Ellie, but it doesn’t sound fine. Ellie sniffs. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Maedlyn starts to reach out to her, but she doesn’t know what Ellie’s feeling. She doesn’t know what to do in this situation. Ellie’s gaze drifts off. She’s in another place now. The lines on her brow deepen.

“Sorry,” Ellie says, “I think I need to go.” She moves toward the door.

“No!” says Maedlyn, the thing snapping in her. The word repeats itself over and over in her mind. “Ellie, wait! Please don’t do that!”

Ellie gets to the door placing a hand on the handle. Maedlyn rushes over, placing her hands on the door, not firm, not to hold it shut, pleading.

“Ellie, please don’t leave! It’s okay if you’re angry. I feel like a fucking idiot. It’s okay if you’re mad at me but please don’t go, that will hurt me, okay? I don’t want to watch you leave.”

Ellie’s hand remains on the handle, but she doesn’t turn it. She’s looking away from Maedlyn. Close to her, Maedlyn can see her shoulders shaking.

Maedlyn has never had reason to entertain the perverse thought of Ellie’s wrath, but it’s terrifying her right now. Maedlyn steps back from the door.

“Please stay,” she says, scared. “Please stay, I don’t want to watch you go.”

The trembling in Ellie’s shoulders seems to come in waves. She doesn’t move. Then, Maedlyn can hear something, in her breathing, and she realizes Ellie is not angry. She’s quietly crying.

In a second, Maedlyn closes the distance between them. Careful, gentle, not wanting Ellie to bolt, she reaches up and lays a hand on her shoulder. “Ellie?”

Ellie is muttering under her breath. Maedlyn can hear her curse.

Maedlyn’s voice softens. “Ellie, is this what you didn’t want me to see?”

Ellie turns her head, still facing away from her.

“Ellie,” says Maedlyn as gently as she’s ever said anything, “come sit with me.”

Maedlyn takes her arm and leads her gently, and Ellie allows it. She brings them to the loveseat and sits them down. Ellie’s face is indeed contorted, and there are tears on her cheeks. She won’t look at Maedlyn. So Maedlyn pulls her in, and Ellie doesn’t resist and falls into her shoulder, where she begins to quietly sob.

“Oh, Ellie,” croons Maedlyn. She wraps her arms around the girl, and lays her head on Ellie’s while she cries.

They stay like that for some time. Maedlyn rocks Ellie. The tears come in waves. Maedlyn can feel the wetness on her shoulder. She holds Ellie firmly. Maedlyn thinks about what she can do, how to help. She thinks of what her mother would do.

And just like that, she begins to softly sing.

_'Tis the gift to be simple_

_'tis the gift to be free_

_'Tis the gift to come down_

_where we ought to be,_

Ellie’s shoulders tremble under Maedlyn’s arms, and her crying quiets just a bit.

_And when we find ourselves_

_in the place just right,_

_'Twill be in the valley_

_of love and delight._

_When true simplicity is gained,_

_To bow and to bend_

_we shan't be ashamed,_

_To turn, turn will be our delight,_

_Till by turning, turning_

_we come 'round right._

Once Maedlyn is finished singing it for the second time, Ellie has finally become still. Maedlyn ceases the song, but continues to rock her for a little while.

Eventually, Ellie places her hand on Maedlyn’s stomach, and Maedlyn loosens her hold, letting Ellie rise.

Ellie’s eyes are red, face covered with moisture. Deftly, Maedlyn fetches a handkerchief from the table next to her and hands it to her. Ellie starts to clean herself up, blowing her nose. She balls up the handkerchief and lays her hands in her lap. Finally she looks at Maedlyn.

Her eyes are full of apology. She looks like she’s waiting to be dismissed, or rejected. _This girl…_ _She really struggles to believe it._

“Ellie,” says Maedlyn, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you don’t need to hide that from me.”

Ellie stares.

“We’ve…” Maedlyn screws up her lips. “I don’t know what you’ve seen, but we’ve both been there.”

“I know,” says Ellie, gravelly. “But you’re right, you haven’t seen what I’ve seen. You haven’t done what I’ve done.”

“Ellie—“

“Maedlyn, I’m broken.” Ellie’s lower lip recedes, showing some of her teeth. “Dina was barely able to put me back together enough to function. I don’t…” She struggles. “I _hate_ thinking of myself as high maintenance, but that’s what I am now. And I—“

“I don’t care,” says Maedlyn. She decides right there that she’s not going to let Ellie get away with that. “I don’t care, Ellie.

“You’re right. I don’t know what you’ve seen, or done. I can tell you’ve been through a lot. I could tell when I first met you. All those scars, the guardedness. I’ve seen it before. In some of the others I travelled with. I see it in them still, after all this time in Jackson. But I still love them.

“Ellie, I did suspect when I met you, that first night… I liked you. That was easy enough. But I also suspected I’d need to be good for the work. That’s what it means, to be with someone. I learned that…” Maedlyn shakes her head. “But I’m saying I understand. I knew that before I first let you through that door. And Ellie, if I wasn’t good for that, I wouldn’t have dared.”

Ellie’s features have slackened. There’s new moisture in her eyes. She’s scared, but she wants it. Whether or not Ellie knows it, Maedlyn can see it. She wants it so bad.

“But I dare,” says Maedlyn. She doesn’t have to will it an inch. She means it, down to the heart.

A tear escapes Ellie’s eye, sliding an inch down her cheek. She’s breathing quickly.

There’s nothing for it. Maedlyn reaches for Ellie’s cheek to pull her in, but Ellie finds hers first, and when their lips meet, it might be the kiss of Maedlyn’s life.

Their lips part, and Ellie’s eyes, Ellie’s _everything_ is just right there, and Maedlyn finds that her heart is pounding.

“I guess I just want to be perfect for you,” says Ellie.

“Yeah?” says Maedlyn, stroking Ellie’s cheek with her thumb. “Perfect, huh? Well it’s funny, because I’m seeing perfect right now.”

There’s nothing left to say, and the moment carries on as they look at each other.

Rudely, it’s interrupted by a loud _ding_. The oven timer has gone off.

Ellie looks, and rubs her nose again. She looks back at Maedlyn, and with some reluctance retracts her hand. She stands and walks over to the oven, opening it. After inspecting the dish, she grabs the oven mitts, pulls out the quiche and sets it on the stove. She leans over it, taking in the aroma.

She snorts softly. “It’s perfect,” she says.

Maedlyn rises and joins her, laying a hand on her lower back. She breathes in the smell and it’s heavenly. “Oh, dear. We might have to carve that right up.” Maedlyn opens a drawer and pulls out her pie server.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” says Ellie, “it’s super hot right now. You’ll burn your tongue!”

“You’re right, we can’t have that.”

Maedlyn’s hoping for more banter, but Ellie doesn’t say anything.

“Ellie, what are you thinking?” Maedlyn asks quietly.

“I’m fighting the urge to apologize.”

Maedlyn’s cheek pinches as she thinks. “So what if the shoe was on the other foot?”

“What?”

“What if I was in tears? Would you—“

“Of course,” Ellie breathes.

“Then you have nothing to apologize for. It’s…” Maedlyn chews her lip. “It is liable to happen, eventually…”

Wordless, Ellie reaches down and squeezes Maedlyn’s hand. It indeed brings up emotion, but Maedlyn shakes her head. “Ellie,” she says, looking her in the eye, “remember, this is our date. I want to have fun!”

Ellie smiles. “Right.”

“Let’s set the table while it cools. After all,” she says in her signature tone, “I’m still starving, and the night is young.”

“Right,” says Ellie with a smirk Maedlyn could get used to. “Ain’t that a beauty.”


	33. Coming Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waited a long time for this, but when the time came I dragged my feet a bit. I didn't want to do it wrong. Well, it's done now.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who came all this way with me. I tried my best to put real feeling into this story. I hope it can mean a fraction as much to some others. And you really helped me get here.
> 
> This story is now complete.

Abby looks up at the jagged peaks of Grand Teton up on the left as she rides. It’s a cool day for late Summer, with a nice breeze. Ellie keeps warning her the cool is going to set in faster than she might like, but Abby’s not worried about it. She’s never spent much time in the snow. She’s kind of looking forward to it.

She looks back at Ellie behind her, and she seems to be enjoying the same view. Ellie meets her eyes.

“Where’s the next stop?” Abby asks.

“On Teton North route?” Ellie replies, considering. “South shore of Jenny Lake. Then we’ll cut between her and the mountain. It’s a nice ride. Usually quiet.”

“Her?”

Ellie blinks. “Well it’s Jenny Lake, after all.”

Abby smirks. “Quiet, huh? Suits me fine.”

Abby’s been patrolling for weeks at this point, usually day shift. Ellie had been right, and there’s been nothing like a repeat of that first day disaster. The story spread quickly through the ranks, and not to Abby’s infamy, fortunately. Actually buoyed her reputation, quite a bit. She’s gotten a lot of jokes about it. Old Clem had cleverly started eschewing the old saying about a fat lady for ‘it don’t stop till the bell drops.’

After her first trip out with Ellie—which Abby generally considers her actual first day—they’d followed the lottery system like everyone else. This is her fourth trip out with Ellie, and they’d proven to work together better than most. They’d only encountered a handful of infected in that time, and they dispatched them with utter ease.

And Ellie is a passable conversational partner. Passable.

“Game’s good out this way,” Ellie says simply.

Abby immediately shoots her a look over her shoulder. “Yeah? Well don’t get too excited.”

On their second trip out, Ellie had spotted a buck and wasted no time taking it down with her arrow. One shot, to the heart. Impressive, if Abby were being honest.

 _Then_ , Ellie has the gall to ask Abby to haul it back to the horses, almost a half mile back. Abby had been indignant.

“You shot it!” she had said fervently.

“Exactly!” Ellie retorted, as if it were a retort at all. “Come on, look at you! It will take forever if I drag it!”

In the end, Abby relented, but the buck was seven points, and well fed. By the time she got back to her horse, Wendy, she was huffing and covered in sweat. She’d given Ellie a lot of shit about it since, but Ellie managed to sell it to Arnold and split it with Abby. A hundred notes each, not bad at all. Over twice the pay of a day of work.

“Sure you don’t want another work out?” Ellie japes.

“Ellie, I’m not kidding, if you shoot another buck, you’re carrying it.”

“What? You don’t want your share of the notes?”

They’re approaching the edge of the forest, over the plains.

“Lake’s a little ways in,” says Ellie. “There’s a shack. We’ll hit it and hook left.”

“Sounds good.”

As they pass through the trees, there are sounds of birds all around them. There’s some scratching sounds, and Abby looks up to see a squirrel eyeing them from a branch, all twitchy tailed.

“Ah…” says Ellie. “Reminds me of Eddie.”

“Eddie?”

“My old horse. He was great. You’d have liked him. He died.” Ellie finishes in a tone that suggests she’d rather not tell the story. She looks down at her mount. “I’m glad Starbeam got back safe, though. She was Clint’s horse.” Ellie scratches Starbeam’s ear affectionately. The horse twitches her hear and makes some sounds of pleasure.

Abby looks down at Wendy, smiling. The horses had grown on her quickly. She strokes her neck.

“And how’s the other Wendy?” asks Ellie.

Abby glances. “Fine. Great, from the looks of it.” She shakes her head. “Her and Lev are inseparable lately.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No…” Abby’s cheek pinches. “It’s not. I just… you know, Ellie. Young people, dating. I’m just worried about Lev getting hurt.”

“Fair, but Lev’s a strong spirit. He’ll be fine. And who knows? Maybe you’ll be the one crying, at his wedding.”

“Oh, shut up,” Abby says. Ellie laughs.

They come out of the copse of trees and the landscape opens up, the deep, dark blue of Jenny Lake spreading out before them. Abby can see the little shack by the shore in the distance.

“Anything new, lately?” Ellie asks idly.

Abby considers. “Earl encouraged me to go for the silver pendant this year, and I think I’m gonna do it.”

The silver pendant is the top prize for the annual marksmanship competition in Jackson. It started out pretty informal, years back, but it’s grown in to quite a to-do. It’s a badge of honor to wear a silver pendant around town.

“Yeah?” says Ellie, piqued. “How you been shooting lately?”

“Last Saturday I put up two 24s and a 25.”

“Eh…?”

Abby glances. “You don’t know? I’m still surprised you’re not into it. Short version, you gotta hit 25 targets in 30 seconds. Only one shot per target. You get a point for every target you hit.”

“Ooh, not bad, then.”

“No it’s not, but I might need multiple 25s to take the silver.”

“Maybe I’ll come down next Saturday, give you some pointers.”

Abby looks directly at her. “If you’re gonna talk shit, you better show up. And we’ll see who’s giving pointers.”

“I might come through…” says Ellie.

They arrive at the shack, dismounting. They don’t worry about tying up the horses. Sight lines are clear and it’s quiet. When Ellie sees there’s no infected anywhere in sight, she’s performedly disappointed. They sign off quick, then remount.

“Lead on, Ellie,” says Abby. “Or maybe I should say captain?”

Ellie doesn’t rise to that, glancing off into the distance as she indeed leads on. It’s how Abby knows it actually bothers her a little. “Maria doesn’t want me captain, she wants me patrol lead.”

“And what do you think happens after patrol lead?” Abby asks her. “Ellie, you just need to say yes already. You’ve got more experience than six other patrollers put together.”

“That include you?”

“Obviously not. What’s the issue?”

Ellie frowns, not returning her look. “I wouldn’t call it an issue, Abby. I like being out here. I don’t like being in charge of other people.”

“Yeah? Well if you’re asking me, I like that in a leader. Suggests humility.”

“I wasn’t…” Ellie trails off, but Abby’s got her thinking about it, so she’s satisfied with it.

They ride on for a while. The Tetons loom taller in front of them. It’s still shy of midday, and sunny. Smells richly of pine. Abby never lets her guard down out here, not all the way. But it’s pretty damn nice. She’ll give it that.

“What about you?” Abby asks. “Anything new?”

Ellie considers. “Alright, this is never-tell-anyone-else-ever territory.”

Abby frowns. “Alright.”

“Can’t say anything for sure, but I just have this suspicion Dina and Dale might be considering having another kid.”

“Whoa, that’s some kind of speculation, Ellie. Do you have any reason to believe that?”

“Not specifically, just a feeling I’ve been getting around them, lately.”

“Would that bother you?”

“What? No! Not at all. It’d be great. Anyway, you’re right, I shouldn’t speculate. Other than that… Oh, yeah!” Ellie reaches to her holster and pulls out her pistol. She takes it by the barrel and offers it to Abby.

Confused, Abby takes it. Then she notices the grip. Abby holds it side up in her open palm. The siding is well lacquered wood with a shiny brass inlay, the dark metal polished and clean. It’s honestly an exquisite piece.

“Pretty fine, Ellie,” Abby admits. “Pick it up at Reginald’s?”

“Actually, it was a gift,” says Ellie. “From Mads. It was…” Ellie scratches the back of her head. “It needed restoring, but Reg owed me one, and there it is.”

“Very nice.” Abby hands it back to her.

“And on that subject…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve actually got that thing with Maedlyn tonight.”

Ellie’s more serious than usual. Abby’s not sure what she means for a second. “Oh, you talked her into that?”

“Yeah, so I’m really hoping it goes well.”

“Where are you gonna take her?”

“Top secret. I managed to scout out a great spot, though.”

“Safe, I hope.”

“Oh, it’s safe. The spot is. Never know where infected might roam, though.”

“I imagine you can handle it, worse comes to worse.”

“I can, but Maedlyn… she doesn’t like that stuff. She left that life behind and she’s glad for it. But I really want this to go well.”

“I’ll cross my fingers for you.”

“Thanks.”

They’re on a lightly ascending dirt road, now. It stretches out straight before them through the trees.

“Where’s the next spot?” Abby asks.

“About half a mile up the road.” Ellie glances over at her, sly look on her face. “Wanna race?”

“Loser buys dinner?”

“Yup!” and with that, Ellie whips her reigns and brings Starbeam up to a gallop.

“Fucker!” Abby shouts, urging Wendy on, but as Wendy picks up and gets after Ellie, Abby can’t help but issue a laugh.

* * *

Maedlyn hikes up the slope. This section is relatively steep, with loose, rocky soil. She’s not panting exactly, but it takes effort. She’d dug out her old leather travel boots, laced up to mid-calf, still well broken-in from her time on the road. They’re not her cutest footwear, but she’s thankful for them now. She considered pants, but given that it’s a date, it had to be a dress. She chose the teal one. It’s loose-skirted, so it’s fine for hiking a short distance. And it’s one of her favorites, in how well it’s retained its uncommon color. Which happens to go nicely with her hair.

Finally reaching the top of the slope, she sees Ellie’s shapely legs in jeans and looks up to see her offering her hand. It’s not wholly necessary, since Maedlyn’s practically there.

“Don’t worry, Ellie, I’m managing. But, since you’re kind to offer.” Maedlyn accepts her hand and Ellie pulls her the rest of the way to flatter ground. Maedlyn huffs. “Is it much farther?” she asks sardonically.

“Not much farther,” says Ellie. There’s a twinkle in her eye today. She’s excited. She’d worked on Maedlyn long enough to get her out here. She claims to have scouted for over a week to find the right spot. “I promise.”

Bearing a little smile, Maedlyn proceeds after her suitor. They’re not far from Jackson, scarcely a mile, probably. But they’d gone straight up the hill, to the east, well off beaten trails by this point. Ellie’s got a big pack on, carrying most of what they’d need. Maedlyn can tell she’s trying to make it easy for her. She doesn’t want this to be the last time.

Maedlyn smiles more broadly. It makes her feel so good when she can tell Ellie’s making an effort. And she’s been doing a great job. Maedlyn wakes up to a rosy feeling more often than not these days. And often with a beautiful companion at her side.

Maedlyn flushes slightly. She’s reminiscing on how Ellie’s face looks while she’s sleeping.

“How’s that smell?” Ellie asks, interrupting her reverie.

Maedlyn breathes. “Piney. It’s nice. Very fresh, up here.”

“Yeah, I love it. It clings to your clothes. I like that a lot, actually.”

“Ah,” says Maedlyn. “That’s why it smells so familiar.” Ellie smiles back at her.

“Weather turned out great, too. It was cool earlier, I’m glad it warmed up.”

“Me, too.”

There’s a flutter, and on a nearby branch a bluebird lands. The two stop, watching it. It inspects them, cheeps a couple times, then flies away. They exchange a look and a little smile, and carry on.

“Glad for the food I packed,” says Maedlyn, “I’ll have worked up an appetite when—“

She stops when she sees Ellie’s outstretched hand, making a stopping gesture. She looks up, confused.

Ellie’s in front of her, looking ahead into the shaded trees. Maedlyn tries to find what Ellie’s looking at, then her heart jumps when she sees the silhouette.

There’s a tall, broad person standing a ways off, facing the other way. From the way he’s swaying, he’s clearly infected. Maedlyn’s heartrate accelerates quickly.

Ellie turns to her, and her face has totally changed. Her features are all neutral, eyes intent. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’ll handle this.”

“Maybe we should turn back—“ Maedlyn whispers urgently.

Ellie shakes her head. “I have to deal with this. It’s my job, remember?” She speaks slowly, clearly trying to calm Maedlyn down. “He’s no threat to me. You’ll be fine. Here.”

Maedlyn’s confused for a second, then she realizes Ellie is offering to help her up into a tree next to them. Ellie projects confidence in this moment. Wordless, Maedlyn accepts Ellie’s hand, finds a branch with the other, scrambles quietly, then all of the sudden she’s ten feet off the ground, sitting on a large limb.

Ellie is already moving. She moves forward in a half-crouch, silent as death, pistol in her hand.

For no knowable reason, the runner idly turns around, and spots Ellie. It grunts in surprise.

Ellie doesn’t so much as flinch. She pivots to stepping backward quietly. The runner makes an angry sound and charges her. In a smooth motion, Ellie raises her arm and fires the pistol, causing Maedlyn to jump.

The runner falls on her, and for a second Maedlyn’s heart is in her throat. Then she notices it’s gone limp. It’s already dead. Supporting its weight for a second, Ellie turns, and pushes the heavy body into the bushes, where it falls out of sight.

Ellie looks up at her, completely unshaken. She points to her eyes, then makes a circular gesture with her finger. She’s going to look around.

Just kind of stunned. Maedlyn waits. Ellie’s gone for perhaps a minute, then comes back with her pistol holstered. She walks up to the tree.

“It’s safe,” says Ellie. “Roamers usually move in groups, but when they do, they stay close together. This one looks like a lone wolf.”

Maedlyn stares at her.

Ellie beckons. “Come on down.”

Tentatively, Maedlyn starts climbing down, till she’s hanging from a branch, several feet off the ground. Ellie raises her hands toward her. Maedlyn drops, and Ellie’s hands catch her around the waist, softening the landing.

“You alright?” Ellie asks her.

Maedlyn is brushing dust off her bottom. “Am _I_ alright? Ellie, you’re acting like that was nothing.”

“I mean,” says Ellie, “it wasn’t nothing, but this is what I do, Mads.”

“What if there are more?”

“There won’t be, unless there’s a different pack. And that’s really rare. Most days on patrol I don’t even see infected anymore.”

“But you said this wasn’t a patrol route…”

“That’s true, but it’s still rare. I’ve been scouting this area for a week, remember. That’s the first one I’ve seen.” Ellie moves closer to her. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I know how you feel. If you want, we can turn around, right now.”

The nerves are still clinging to Maedlyn. Ellie means it, but it’s clear how badly she wants to keep going. She thinks about how she dealt with that infected. Most grown men would have been spooked, but Ellie is steady as a tree trunk. She had promised she would protect Maedlyn, and what had she just done but prove it.

The corners of Maedlyn’s mouth turn upward. “Is it much farther?”

“Not much farther. Less than half a mile.”

“Then lead on, handsome.”

When Ellie’s sure she means it, she breaks into a smile, and she leads on.

They’re quiet for a while. They’re deep in the trees, and it’s well shaded. Maedlyn can tell Ellie is scouting professionally after that last encounter, but they don’t run into anything else. The going is easier here.

Eventually they wind up at what to Maedlyn looks like a dead end. It’s a sheer rock wall covered in old roots. Ellie stops, turns and points upward.

“Seriously?” says Maedlyn. “Now you’ll have me rock climbing?”

“Root climbing, really,” says Ellie. “Come on, it’s practically a ladder. And this is the destination. You go first. I’m sure you won’t fall, but if you do I’ll catch you.”

Maedlyn gives her a look. “Very well, then. But mind your eyes.”

“What?” asks Ellie. “Oh, come on!”

Maedlyn laughs, then begins her ascent. Ellie’s right, the roots are thick and numerous. It’s not very difficult. It’s about twelve feet high. When Maedlyn finds her feet, there are more bushes and trees, and a clearing a little further, looks like.

Ellie pops up behind her almost silently. Graceful, as always. Maedlyn enjoys her confident movements as much as the musculature of her forearms. Ellie meets her eyes with a little secret smile, then moves into the bushes.

Following her, Maedlyn finds herself walking into a flat, circular clearing, maybe thirty feet across. It’s a bed of soft looking green grass. The only other feature is a big tree stump. The trunk of the tree fell sometime long ago, disappearing into the surrounding trees.

It’s a special spot, Ellie was right. Maedlyn looks up. The sky is huge and blue above her. A steep rock wall extends on one side, leading up to a terrific view of a monumental peak.

“Oh, Ellie…” says Maedlyn. She closes her eyes, smiling. “You were right. I did miss this.”

“And I’ll bet you’ll like this, too.” Maedlyn looks. Ellie gestures with her thumb to where they climbed the wall. “That is the _only_ way in here.”

“Really?”

“Well, let me put it this way, that’s the _easiest_ way in here.”

Maedlyn narrows her eyes. “Ever seen an infected climb?”

“Something like that? Literally never.”

They are really safe, then. Maedlyn smiles. She traces Ellie’s jaw with her finger. “You do know how to take care of a girl, don’t you?” She leans in for a kiss.

The get to work setting up their little camp. Ellie started a fire pit the last time she was here. She finishes it and builds a little fire and a wood cross bar to hang her little cooking pot from. They’re both eager to get dinner going after their hike.

“So what’d you bring?” Ellie asks. Maedlyn had kept it secret.

“Well, I wanted it to be something you like, so I made another batch of that beef stew.”

Ellie’s eyes widen. “Oh! The one from a few weeks ago?”

“That’s the one.”

Ellie’s head rolls back in anticipation. “Yes!”

Maedlyn laughs. While she’s preparing it, Ellie busies herself setting up their little tent. The sky is turning orange and sunset approaches. It’s a beautiful sight. Maedlyn looks over to another beautiful sight, smartly staking their tent to the ground. Ellie laid out a double sleeping bag that she brought for them wide open, to use as a cushion and blanket. Maedlyn smiles. This is turning out pretty fine, all things considered.

“Soup’s up, cutie!” Maedlyn calls.

“Be right there, I’m just about done.”

Ellie provides two little tin mugs to eat the stew out of.

“No spoons?” Maedlyn asks.

“That’s roughing it,” Ellie replies.

Ellie puts the open sleeping bag up against a broad side of the tree stump, near the fire. The nestle up next to each other against it, sipping their stew. They chat idly for a while. Ellie talks about her recent patrols, and some stories Lev has caught form around town while delivering mail. He’s stringently careful not to share anything that might be considered gossip.

Maedlyn’s met him and Abby, who she essentially thinks of as his big sister, a few times. She likes them. Their story is wild, and Maedlyn doesn’t know all of it, but she doesn’t really feel like she needs to. It’s a long time gone, now. And that seems to suit them well.

“Alright,” says Ellie, coming back from cleaning their mugs with spring water she’d picked up on the way. “Per your request.” She pulls a bottle of wine with a handwritten label on it from her pack. “From Chateau Mary. Vintage…” Ellie screws up her face, thinking. “2041? I guess. Man, don’t really think about that much, anymore.”

“Let’s see,” says Maedlyn. She takes the bottle. “Ooh, zinfandel. Luscious.”

Ellie pops the cork and pours some into both their tin mugs. She sets the bottle on the grass and sits back down against the stump, their bodies touching from hip to shoulder.

“To Jackson?” Ellie offers her mug for a toast.

“To promise,” replies Maedlyn. The tin makes a little clink when the mugs touch.

For a while after that, they don’t say anything. They just enjoy the sky, the mountain, the glade, and the fire. And each other. It’s a nice moment. It’s a nice night. Maedlyn’s glad she agreed. She looks at Ellie.

“You up for a little more?” she asks.

Ellie hesitates. That’s Maedlyn’s code for talking about serious things. She’s trying not to be too pushy with Ellie, but she wants them to get closer. To talk real, and regularly, if this thing is going to work. And Ellie has been good. Honest, always. Brave, when she needs to be.

Ellie thinks. “Do you want to talk about what we’re scared of?”

 _Oh. That is a good one._ Maedlyn bites her lip. “Okay, but you go first.”

“Okay,” Ellie replies. She looks down and swirls her wine in her mug. “A long time ago I was talking about this with someone else. I told him I was scared of ending up alone.”

“Yeah?” says Maedlyn. “That scares me, too.”

Ellie looks at her. Sometimes, Ellie is as silly and impetuous as a ten year old. Sometimes, she seems far older than Maedlyn. She seems that way right now.

“In a world like this, full of danger, it makes sense, right? To be by yourself…” Ellie’s eyes drift off. “Even if you managed to survive, would you be living? Time has changed my thoughts, though.”

“How so?”

“I would never have admitted it, but there was a time when I would cling to the people around me. Desperate not to lose them. I never had anyone, remember. When I was young. So that was where I started from. So when I got someone, they had to stay. I had to protect them.”

Ellie’s eyes are miles away. This is touching a deep place for her. Tense and fascinated, Maedlyn lays a hand on Ellie’s forearm, but she doesn’t react.

“Then I started to lose those people. And that really changed the calculus.”

“What do you mean?”

“It would have been bad with anyone. But when I lost Joel… I started questioning whether being alone was really so bad.”

“Ellie…”

“So I spent a lot of time alone. A lot, that year after Santa Barbara. For a time, it seemed like it helped. I told myself I was free. But I wasn’t. I was a slave to pain I didn’t want to feel. Coming back to Jackson, coming back to that pain, it felt like dying. But the truth is, I was coming back to life.”

Ellie looks at her, but Maedlyn can’t imagine responding to that. It’s beyond anything she’d ever experienced. So she reaches up and strokes her cheek.

Ellie looks back at her, crushing Maedlyn’s heart with her eyes.

“What are you scared of now, then?” Maedlyn asks.

Ellie smiles sadly. “The exact same thing. Only now I really feel it.”

Maedlyn swallows. She’s part of that story now, she realizes. She is someone that Ellie could lose. “You really were ready for more…”

Ellie smiles. “Your turn,” she says softly.

Maedlyn bites her lip. “Right…” She looks down, and adjust herself, sitting up a little straighter. She thinks. “I’m scared of what I love being taken from me.”

Ellie frowns. “What do you mean?”

Maedlyn’s going to that place where she feels small. It’s something she always resists, but it’s also the whole point right now, and she lets it happen.

“When I was a little girl, I thought everybody was nice. In Paisley. That was my whole world. The infected scared me. They scared me bad. I rarely saw them, but sometimes they would come up to the fence and start banging on it. I still remember—“ Maedlyn brings her hand to her head, she can still hear one of them growling, it had looked at her, and she’d been terrified. “But the adults always dealt with them, always kept them away. So I felt safe, but only inside those walls.

“And then those men came to town, and that day I learned that not everyone was nice.”

Ellie doesn’t say anything, but her deep eyes and wrinkled brow say she understands. She puts her hand around the wrist holding Maedlyn’s mug and squeezes her.

“I know what they were doing, now. Terrorizing, killing those who resisted. They never intended to wipe us out, they wanted to use us. At the time, though, all I remember was my mother’s face, in the darkness. She cradled me, telling me I was going to be okay. That they would protect us. That she would protect me. I can still hear the sounds outside.”

“Mads…”

“When it got quiet again, one of the men came into our tent. There were several of us in there, all women. He was horrible to look at. One of his arms was darkened. Blood or ash, I’ll never know. He sneered at us, looking over all of us. He never said anything, he just left. Mother sang me to sleep that night. The next day, everything changed.

“Some things were the same. Most things were different. Those men, they were always around, always watching us. They worked us a lot harder. They didn’t like us kids playing. We had to sneak to play. The newcomers were mean and creepy. We didn’t say a word to them we didn’t have to. We knew we had to obey them. The adults, the people who had always protected us, were scared. And that made me very, very scared.”

Ellie squeezes her wrist again. Her face moves, she wants to say things, but she forces herself not to. She shakes her head, as if for Maedlyn to continue.

“Fortunately it was a short time. Maybe three weeks. We were afraid to defy them openly, but in private our solidarity was unquestioned. Mother told me about the plan just before it happened. We would flee together, to find a new home, when the men were sleeping off their drink. And it worked. I was terrified, though. I was afraid we would be caught and the punishment I knew would be terrible. I don’t think I ever wholly let go of that fear. On the road, I would always wonder. Would they finally catch up with us? Would we run across a new band of cruel men?

“I hated that. That people could do that to each other. It went against everything I had learned in Paisley. But I couldn’t argue with it, because it had happened to me. To us. I learned that what you love can be taken from you, and there may be nothing you can do to stop it. Even—“ Maedlyn actually goes to speak, but the words stop coming. She opens her mouth, but only air comes out. The feeling is swelling in her chest.

Ellie’s concerned. She leans toward her, putting her arm around her. Maedlyn’s words finally come out in a heavy rush.

“ _I miss my daddy, Ellie_.”

Without another word Ellie pulls her in as Maedlyn begins to sob, clutching her closely. Maedlyn’s forehead presses into Ellie’s neck, the smell of her skin entwining with the waves of smothering sadness rushing up from within her.

Ellie doesn’t sing, but she does whisper to Maedlyn. She rocks her, and gives her words of comfort, and truth and meaning and love. Maedlyn clings to them as she weeps.

Some time later, it’s quiet again and Maedlyn has made a mess of Ellie’s shirt. She rouses and pulls her head off Ellie’s shoulder, part of Ellie’s shirt sticking to her cheek for an instant.

Maedlyn sniffs and rubs at her face. “Well, that was more than I bargained for.” It’s come full dark, and the light of the fire is dim, for which Maedlyn is thankful because she must look a mess.

She can see Ellie’s smile and the glint of her eye in the firelight. “That’s the point, right?”

“God…”

Ellie squeezes Maedlyn’s hand one last time and lets go. Maedlyn looks up. “I was looking forward to this part,” Ellie says.

“What part?”

Ellie looks upward. Maedlyn follows suit, and indeed the stars are out in force. They’re uncountable. It's not like in Jackson’s walls and Maedlyn had almost forgotten about it. Without intending it, Maedlyn makes a sound of wonder.

Ellie rises next to her. “Come on.” Maedlyn takes her hand and follows her.

Ellie brings the sleeping back and fans it out in front of the tent, under the open sky. They lay on their backs next to each other.

“I told you I really love space, right?” Ellie asks her.

Maedlyn smiles. “I do believe you mentioned it.”

“Look,” Ellie says, pointing. “You can see the milky way super clear out here. I love that.”

“The… milky way?”

Ellie looks at her. “You don’t know what that is? You didn’t learn in school?”

“Ellie, I just told you. I didn’t grow up like you did. We didn’t have ‘school,’ we had old Cody. He had books and things. The adults would make us sit with him every week and learn, but that’s it.”

“Oh, right. I guess I never thought about that…”

As she trails off, Maedlyn gives her a look. “Yeah, remember, you’re dating a real simpleton.”

“I wasn’t saying—“ Ellie laughs. “Okay, I’m not making fun, look. You see that glowy, cloudy band right there?”

“Hard to miss that… When I was a kid, I kind of thought that was heaven.”

“Really?”

“You said you weren’t making fun.”

“I’m not! I’m not, really. That’s beautiful, actually. I can see why you’d think that.”

Ellie means it, she does loves space. Maedlyn can hear the joy in her voice. She likes it.

Maedlyn scooches over and takes Ellie’s arm, snuggling up to her. “Well, tell me about it, then.”

“The milky way is the name of our galaxy, which—do you know what a galaxy is?”

Maedlyn smiles into her shoulder. “That I do know.”

“Well, that’s ours. Earth is on the outside, we’re looking at the center…”

Needing no further prompting, Ellie takes off. She goes on about galaxies and solar systems, nebulas and black holes. How she’s dreamed of exploring space since she was a little girl. About the day she spent in a planetarium that changed her life.

A warm, exquisite feeling burgeons in Maedlyn’s chest. The sound of Ellie’s voice. The passion in her words. That face… Suddenly, Maedlyn can’t remember why she hesitated to come out here with Ellie.

“And that’s Orion, for example. It kind of looks like a man… Anyway, constellations aren’t really astronomy, ancient people came up with them and made up stories about them. They are cool, though, there’s a bunch…” Ellie trails off, looking at Maedlyn. “Are you listening?”

Maedlyn’s easy smile broadens. “Oh, I’m listening.”

“Are you sure? Because there will be a test.”

“Oh, a test?” Maedlyn leans in.

“That’s right.” Their lips meet.

“And if I fail?” Maedlyn asks before kissing Ellie again.

“You’ll have to take the class again.”

“Oh, no…”

The stars twinkle on, overhead, the firmament slowly turning over them in its eternal walk, bearing witness to the lovers far below. A shooting star passes by far above them, but neither of them notice.

* * *

Ellie holds Maedlyn’s hand as they walk down Baker Street. They dropped off the packs they’d taken camping at Maedlyn’s place, and decided they’d pick up breakfast. Not before Maedlyn exchanged her heavy boots for some cute mary janes that match her teal dress, though.

Maedlyn’s slightly flushed. Ellie can tell she’s embarrassed to hold her hand, but she sure isn’t fighting it. She’s private about romantic stuff like that, which is fine with Ellie. It’s pretty cute, actually.

Of course, Ellie’s a little embarrassed, too, but she sure isn’t gonna show it.

“Hey,” she says, “May’s place is on this street. How about a bagel or something? Ooh, you could even get some coffee.”

Maedlyn gives her a look. “I actually like coffee.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Strange…”

“I bet you’d like it too if you gave it a chance.”

“Eh, I’ll stick with orange juice.”

“Ooh, does she have that? I haven’t had that in some time.”

Jackson is quiet this morning, they’ve only seen a few people. As they approach May’s bakery, Ellie frowns. It’s dark inside. She thinks. It’s Monday, it should be pretty busy. They reach the front doors and stop.

“Looks like she’s closed,” says Maedlyn.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe she’s taking the day off.”

“Maybe…” Turning, Ellie sees Dinesh walking their way. She approaches him, letting go of Maedlyn’s hand. “Hey, Dinesh.”

There’s a little startlement to his expression. “Hey Ellie. Hey Maedlyn.”

“Hi,” says Maedlyn.

“Hey,” says Ellie, “do you know why May’s is closed? She’s always open on Monday.”

He bears that startled expression again. “You didn’t hear anything?”

There’s a twist in Ellie’s gut. “Hear what? We spent the night out of town. Did something happen?” She feels Maedlyn’s hand laid gently on her back.

Dinesh is clearly uncomfortable. He looks around. “Shit… yeah. Yeah, something happened. A party went out yesterday, for forage. They were just collecting wild berries from the fields Southwest. They had guards and everything, but they got rushed by a band of infected, just some roamers. They took them out, but Clem was killed… and a couple of the others got bit.”

Ellie advances on him. He takes a half step back. “And May?”

He fumbles. “May was one of them.” He gestures helplessly with his hands. “Ellie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you knew her.”

Maedlyn says something, but Ellie can’t hear her. A tumult is building in her head. She pictures May in her empty shop, holding Ellie’s fingers while they talked about Clint. The noise steadies into a steady sound.

_No, no, no, no, no, no._

“Where are they now?” Ellie interrupts the other two.

“Uh… they took them to the infirmary, I think, but Ellie…”

Without further word, Ellie starts moving, and she doesn’t stop until she hears Maedlyn shouting her name.

“Ellie, stop!”

Ellie turns and Maedlyn is following, stumbling. She’s bending over. Ellie’s angry for a second. She looks a question at Maedlyn.

Maedlyn wrestles off her mary janes, and takes Ellie’s hand, barefoot. They take off running together.

The rest of the trip is a blur. Buildings and faces fly by them, many turned their way. She sees Jordan at one point and he calls out to her, but she ignores him.

The dark green doors of the infirmary appear, a two story white walled building. Ellie pushes through them. There are two nurses in the lobby, startled at Ellie’s entrance.

“Where are they?” Ellie asks.

They exchange a look, and one of them points to a hallway. Ellie goes straight for it.

There’s an open door at the end and Ellie can see a bed. A woman is walking toward them and Ellie recognizes Maria.

Maria’s eyes go wide. “Ellie, what—“ She reaches out for her. “Ellie, hold on!”

Ellie jerks her arm away and runs straight into the room, panting.

There are two beds to the right with people in them, IV bags set up next to them. Ellie looks to a bed on the left, and sees May.

The older woman’s form looks horrible. Her skin is pale, features sunken. Her face is slack and she’s limp in the bed. Ellie’s heart wrenches. She feels Maedlyn squeeze her arm as she gasps.

There’s someone sitting next to the bed. At first, his face doesn’t make sense. Then Ellie recognizes him.

Captain Dunford stands up, equally surprised to see her. He doesn’t say anything. In response to her questioning gaze, he glances to the side.

There’s a counter against the inner wall of the room. There’s a large box on it. Limbs moving on their own, Ellie walks over and opens it. It’s a heavily insulated box. There’s thin mist trailing about inside amongst rows of caps. She grabs one.

In her hand is a small glass vial with a printed label on the side reading _Immunoglobulin E._

Ellie looks over at May. She looks as bad as before, but now Ellie can tell her eyes are cracked open. She’s looking at Ellie. Dazed, Ellie walks over to her. She lays a hand on the crown of the woman’s head.

May glances between the vial and Ellie’s face. Her voice comes out a grating whisper. “Well, that was a hell of a night.”

Ellie stares. Clint’s words come to her, then, unbidden.

_I still have May. Nothing ever gonna happen to her. I will not let go of that._

May’s expression changes to concern. The hand holding the vial is shaking. Ellie leans down, laying her head against the older woman’s, her tears falling down onto her face. May makes a quiet sound, and Ellie feels her soft hand on her cheek.

Ellie decides right there.

_I’m not gonna let go, either._


End file.
